Step by Step, We'll Get There
by FanofBellaandEdward
Summary: Stiles attends the Fertility Run for the first time and he hopes - really wants - Derek will be the one to catch him. That's the plan. One Theo Raeken, however, wasn't part of that plan. Stiles' pov; A/B/O dynamics; Omega!Stiles; MPreg; slash; more warnings inside
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This first chapter gave me more trouble to finish than I anticipated at first *sweatdrops* My first Teen Wolf fic, so I hope I won't do too badly!**

 **This fic is dedicated to Hikory, because it's her birthday today! Happy birthday!**

 **Warnings will be put in every chapter. If I forget a particular warning that should be added, please let me know.**

 **Warnings: Slash; a bit of drama; A/B/O dynamics; Omega!Stiles. It starts out as Theo/Stiles, but will end with Derek/Stiles, I promise :)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **Dedicated to: Hikory**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 1_

The sound of the school bell ringing shrilly through the corridors, echoing in the classrooms, was like music in the ears of every student – and perhaps in those of the teachers as well as they were all too eager to release the students in the hands of the sweet freedom they craved.

"You got time to go to Millie's?" Scott asked cheerfully, stashing his notebook and pencase into his bag carelessly.

"Yeah, dad's still busy with organising the Run; said he'd be home late," Stiles replied, swinging his own bag over his shoulder.

"Oh, that's right," Scott remembered and his face lit up with excitement as he bumped Stiles' shoulder with his. "You're going to join this year, right?"

"Yeah, as is tradition for every non mated eighteen year old," Stiles answered dryly. Even as the words left his mouth, though, his stomach did a funny flip and he swallowed, tightening his grip around the strap of his bag. "We can't be all so lucky as to find our mate before we're eighteen, you know."

Instantly a goofy smile appeared on his friend's face as his thoughts obviously drifted towards the girl he could call his mate for four months so far. Naturally the mention of her had him going on a tangent, informing Stiles about what they had done during their latest date, down to the smallest detail like how the sun had cast a pretty sheen in Kira's hair and _did you know how beautiful her eyes glitter when she laughs?_

Yes, yes, as a matter of fact Stiles did know that – not out of any interest of his own, but because his best friend simply couldn't shut up about his girlfriend and was wont to repeat things he had said multiple times before already. But being the good friend he was, Stiles suffered through the long, way too detailed description of Scott's date with Kira last week – again, he might add – all the way up to Millie's, heroically resisting the urge to cram one of the empty candy wrappers into Scott's mouth.

He loved the dude, he really did, but his one track mind when it came to his girlfriend could be pretty annoying at times.

The Beta finally ran out of steam when they were half way through their hamburger and milkshake. Stiles was actually fairly impressed that Scott had been able to talk about his date for so long – especially considering the date had only consisted out of a picknick at the park. The amount of detail Scott could put into his stories when it concerned Kira was just astonishing, really.

"So," Scott said and the sudden switch from excited to nervous had Stiles staring at him curiously.

"So, what?" Stiles prompted when it didn't look like the other boy would continue any time soon.

Twirling his straw between his fingers, Scott glanced around quickly before lowering his voice and asking, "You feeling ready for the Run?" He was speaking hushed as if the term on its own was like a hideous curse word that would bring down the wrath of Margarethe, the owner of Millie's, if she caught wind of it.

Stiles snorted. "Not like I have much of a choice, right?"

Every non mated person was obligated to join the Fertility Run if they had turned eighteen before it occurred. You were allowed to skip a Run afterwards, but the first one was obligated – whether you wanted to or not.

The Fertility Run was one of the few old traditions which had still survived until this day. It was rather archaic – and discriminating towards Omega – but it was one of those customs people kept clinging on to, no matter how many years passed by.

In spite of Stiles' flippant tone, Scott was still looking quite worried. "What if you get caught by someone you don't want?"

And _that_ was the main reason why the outdated custom should have been buried into the history books already. Stiles breathed out slowly, his grip tightening a tad around his hamburger; some sauce was squeezed out, dripping onto the crinkly wrapper.

As an Omega himself, he was going to be the one who got caught and not doing any catching – and choosing – of his own. Whoever was quicker than him, whoever managed to outsmart him, had won the right to become his mate, whether he liked that person or not.

Even in this modern age, people still thought it was normal to become the mate of someone you might not even like, purely because they had been the one to catch you. There had been campaigns, rallies, to stop this particular part and give the choice to all three Classes instead of only two, but so far the protesters hadn't had much luck. The only demand they had been able to enforce so far was –

"I'll only have to stick it out with that person for six months and then I'll be gone," Stiles said, taking a bite out of his hamburger.

Couples which were formed during the Run had six months to get to know each other and decide whether they were the right fit or not. After those six months, they would have an appointment with the Council to inform them of their decision. Both had to be on board or the mating would be annulled. It didn't matter whether one of them still wanted to give it a shot – it was all or nothing. Either they both wanted to continue the relationship or their bond would be dissolved, leaving them free to find someone else.

That particular rule, that safety net, was the only reason Stiles hadn't considered making a run for it and leave the town before the Fertility Run would start. Well that and he didn't want to leave his dad behind.

"Oh yeah." Relief flashed in deep brown eyes and Scott grinned. "I had forgotten about that! That six month rule is great! At least you won't be stuck with a jerk forever."

"Or a bitch," Stiles added dryly. He had discovered some time ago that he swung both ways, so the gender of whoever caught him wouldn't be that big of a deal.

What did matter was whether or not he could grow to like them.

"Soooo," Scott drawled, leaning forwards, just barely avoiding smashing his elbow into his cheeseburger. There was mischief glinting in his eyes and his grin widened. "You got your eyes on someone?"

"What, like who I'd want to catch me?" Stiles shook his head and slurped loudly from his chocolate milkshake. "Nah man, nobody."

Scott deflated slightly. "What, really? Most people have someone they want to catch them."

"If I had, you'd be the first one to know it, buddy. I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut," Stiles told him cheerfully.

"That's true," Scott snickered. "I still remember you making all sorts of plans for Lydia Martin and - "

"Hey, we do not talk about that!" Stiles cried out, ignoring the foul look of a mother two tables down, and kicked him underneath the table. "Rule number one of our friendship: we do not hold each other's stupidity over crushes over each other's heads!"

"I thought rule number one was to always have each other's backs, even if that meant pissing off our parents," Scott retorted confused, tilting his head to the right.

The Omega waved his hand, nearly smacking his friend in the face with his half demolished burger. "They, like, share the same place, okay? They're that important, so don't forget them!"

"All right, I won't forget," Scott laughed, holding up his hands. Then he sobered up and dragged his milkshake closer to him. "Just be careful, okay? You're my best friend and I don't want you to get hurt."

Affection for his best friend made his chest warm and he patted Scott's hand. For all that he could jabber on about his girlfriend, he was still there for him and Stiles knew he could count on him.

"I'll be fine," he promised and Scott brightened again, looking like a happy puppy.

Stiles was just glad Scott hadn't been paying enough attention to him to catch the way his heart had skipped a beat just now.

* * *

Okay, so when Scott had asked him whether he was interested in somebody – he had lied. And he would feel guilty about it, except it was just a little white lie and actually, could it really be considered a lie when he just didn't want to make his friend even more worried than he already was?

So he had fudged the truth a little bit, who cared? It wasn't the first time he had told a little white lie to his friend – and it wasn't his fault Scott still so easily believed him, despite having to know better after being friends with him for years.

All right, yeah, so maybe that did make him a bit of a jerk, but he never claimed to be an entirely good person.

Who he couldn't fool, though, no matter how many times he tried – and boy, had he tried a lot throughout the years! – was his dad.

His dad, who was watching Stiles put down a plate with lasagne on the table with too much focus for the boy to be completely comfortable.

"Hey dad, you're home earlier than I thought," Stiles said casually, filling a glass with water and putting that in front of the Sheriff.

Dad sank down in the chair with a sigh, rolling his shoulders and making them crack. "Yeah, we got a bit more help, so we were able to finish up things sooner," he replied, taking a bite from his late dinner.

"So everything's ready, huh? Nothing else to be done?" Stiles asked, dropping down in the other chair with a soda.

"No, now it's just waiting for Sunday for Talia to open the ceremony," Dad said, referring to the major, Talia Hale.

"Sounds good, you're on shift tomorrow?" Would it be too childish to admit he wanted to spend his last day before the Run with his dad? There was always a chance nobody would choose him, of course, but one never knew, and he wanted to spend time with his dad before he would be forced to deal with whoever ended up being his mate.

"No, Parrish is in charge tomorrow. I'm taking a break from the double shifts."

"That's good – you need your rest, old man. You're not as young anymore," Stiles teased him, opening his can of soda. It cracked open with a sharp hiss and the liquid fizzled on his tongue when he took a sip.

Ignoring the jab, dad said nonchalantly, "So I ran into Derek Hale today. Seems like he's been back in town for a couple of days now."

The second sip he took ended up in the wrong pipe and he coughed violently, the soda pricking his throat, as he pushed his can away and slammed his chest. Dad watched him leisurely, eating his lasagne, as if his only son wasn't choking on a stupid sip of soda.

Eyes watering, he brought out in a scratchy voice, "Is – is that so? Guess the mayor is happy, huh?" He coughed again, rubbing over his chest and wiping away some stray tears. He was out of breath as if he had just run up and down the stairs a couple of times instead of choking a bit.

"Yeah, she's definitely happy to have him back. How long has it been? Two, three years?" Dad mused, sipping of his water. "He grew up quite handsome. He was giving us a hand today, which is why the work was done sooner. Apparently he doesn't have a mate."

"He doesn't? What a shame," Stiles commented weakly, sinking a bit deeper into his chair and pressing the can against his mouth. He didn't make a move to drink again, though, worried he'd end up choking again, considering the topic dad was suddenly so eager to discuss.

"Yeah, said he was joining the Fertility Run this year too," Dad continued airily. "I think he only participated once before leaving, right?"

Stiles offered a non-committal noise, deciding it was best to keep quiet now before he said something stupid.

When dad looked at him next, his gaze was calculative and the sharpness in it had Stiles freezing up, feeling like a bug pinned down. His dad had the uncanny ability to make him feel like a criminal every time he looked at him like that and it made Stiles want to apologise for things he wasn't sure he had done.

"I actually had an interesting conversation with Derek while we were setting up the stand for the Council," Dad remarked, scraping the last bit of lasagne off his plate.

"Really?" Stiles' mouth was oddly dry all of a sudden and he dared to drink his soda. The drink prickled his sensitive throat, but that was nothing compared to the way his stomach flipped when dad's face darkened slightly.

"Yeah, told me to say hello to you on his behalf."

"That's polite of him," Stiles commented, slightly strangled.

Dad kept staring at him until he squirmed and he released a sigh. "You do realise my men have been patrolling the whole town for the past two weeks, right? Every nook and cranny, Stiles. There were more patrols than usual."

"Yeah, I know. They're doing a great job, they should get a raise or something." Stiles offered him a thumb's up, ignoring the way his heart was racing like he was running a marathon.

"And you know they report to me about _everything_ out of the ordinary they notice."

There was an unnecessary emphasis on the word 'everything' if you asked Stiles.

Dad crossed his arms. "For example, something out of the ordinary would be spotting a blue jeep parked next to a black Camaro," he said idly.

"While that may be out of the ordinary, it could just be coincidence," Stiles squeaked and yeah, there was no way to hide the way his heart blipped at that.

Dad squinted at him, looking decidedly unimpressed. "So it's just coincidence that days after some officers saw you talking to Derek, he tells me to say hello to you?" he asked sceptically.

"Talia raised her boy to be polite!"

"I'm sure she did. So when were you going to tell me you're interested in the Hale boy?" Dad raised an eyebrow.

Stiles waved his hands wildly, shaking his head in quick denial. "Who says I'm interested in him?" he spluttered in protest. "Can't I just talk to a guy without being interested in him? That feels, I don't know, kind of sexist, dad, and you should - "

"Because if you are, wouldn't it be easier to ask him out, so that you don't have to attend the Run?" Dad said louder, drowning out his son's protests.

"What? Pssht, no, nobody is asking anyone out, because nobody is interested in anyone!" Stiles argued, his cheeks progressively heating up until he was sure he resembled a tomato. Damn his pale skin for betraying him.

"So you're not secretly hoping that he's going to catch you Sunday?" Dad asked knowingly.

"Of course not, that would be ridiculous," Stiles scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Even so, don't get your hopes up, son," Dad sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"That kind of sounds like you think he's out of my league or something," Stiles complained, flushing with embarrassment.

"Nobody is out of your league, son," Dad instantly denied and the younger man looked away with a weak smile, both pleased and wanting to protest that statement.

"But the Run is unpredictable and you never know who ends up finding you," Dad continued. "If that ends up being Derek, great, I'm happy for you, kid, but it's also possible that someone else finds you first, so I don't want you to pin your hopes too much on one person, all right?"

"I know, dad, I'm not stupid," Stiles murmured, picking at a loose thread in his sleeve.

"I know you're not. Just promise me one thing, okay?"

Bemused Stiles looked up, staring straight into the solemn eyes of the Sheriff. "What?"

"If whoever finds you, mistreats you, you have to let me know at once."

"But the six month rule - "

"I don't care about that rule, Stiles," Dad said sharply and the younger man shut his mouth with a click. "I care about seeing you happy and if someone lays their hand on you in the wrong way, they're going to wish they didn't. So promise me: at the first sign they're stepping out of line, you let me know and I take care of it, okay."

"I can take care of myself you know," Stiles pointed out, but he couldn't help but feel warm at knowing he still had his dad's protection, even after becoming an adult.

"I know you can. So you'll give them hell first and then I'll finish it," Dad stated and stood up, walking around the table to his son.

Stiles rose up, stepping into dad's embrace automatically, and hugging him back. Dad squeezed the back of his neck gently and the gesture had the Omega relaxing in his hold.

"This Run is incredibly outdated and I wish you didn't have to be a part of it," he murmured. "But I hope you'll find someone who's good to you."

"Even if that's someone with a black Camaro?" Stiles mumbled, rubbing his forehead back and forth across his dad's shoulder.

"Even if it's someone with a black Camaro, yes," the Alpha said dryly, before uttering a soft sigh. "You're going to be okay, kiddo."

Stiles nodded and tightened his grip around dad's waist. "Can we spend tomorrow together?"

"Of course we can."

"Great, I'll even let you get away with eating a steak this once," Stiles grinned, leaning back to look properly at the older man.

Dad rolled his eyes. "I'm a wolf – I can handle steak more than once in a while, Stiles."

"Even wolves can get high cholesterol, dad," Stiles chided him.

From there on they fell into the old, familiar argument again and for a while it felt like any regular Friday evening, one they had shared many times before.

Stiles resolutely didn't think about how this might be his last regular Friday evening that he could spend with his dad.

* * *

Having spent his last day before the Run with his dad had been good for him. They had spent the majority of the day trekking through the woods and having lunch there before returning home and watching stupid movies.

The trip through the woods had allowed Stiles to get rid of the majority of his nerves, the fresh air outside clearing his mind. Whatever would happen during the Run would happen and there wasn't much he could do about it. There was no sense in working himself up before the event had even started.

That turned out to be easier said than done of course and by the time he was waiting behind the line that signified the start on Sunday, together with several other Omega, he started feeling jittery again, his nerves making him hop back and forth from one foot to the other. Other Omega were mingling together, but he couldn't immediately spot someone he knew and so he lingered near the front, watching how the open space in front of the woods became more and more crowded as people kept arriving.

His father was somewhere with Talia and several police officers, keeping an eye on everyone who arrived today. Only unmated people were allowed to enter the sectioned grass field today; anyone else would be unceremoniously thrown out.

The field itself had been divided into two big parts. One part was reserved for the Omega, who were waiting closest to the woods. They were cut off from the Beta and Alpha by a thick, magical barrier, courtesy of Deaton, the local druid, who was watching the proceedings with his usual brand of disinterest. The Omega would get a head start of half an hour. After those thirty minutes were up, the barrier would disappear and the others would be allowed to start running in the woods. It wasn't only the Omega who would be chased – Beta and Alpha would get chased as well by each other if they found themselves more interested in a Beta or an Alpha than an Omega. Only the Omega weren't allowed to chase anyone – a part of the ancient custom people weren't willing to give up either.

A peculiar scent – carrying wisps of leather and undertones of the dark woods – caught his attention all of a sudden and he whirled around, his eyes darting back and forth across the barrier. He was sure he had …

 _There._

Hazel coloured eyes – though that description was nowhere sufficient enough to describe the myriad of colours he could pick out, like the flecks of gold, the bright green, the specks of blue … - locked onto his own and Stiles froze underneath the piercing stare.

 _He's here_. That thought kept bouncing around in his mind as his heart started pounding and his hands grew clammy, his legs weak like jelly.

Derek Hale was here.

Everybody knew the Hales. That family had lived here for several generations already, practically owned the entire town and every single member was respected by the community. With Talia Hale – the matriarch of the Hale pack – as the mayor their ownership of the place was practically absolute. She had started leading the town four years ago and as many functions required both the Sheriff and the mayor to attend, Stiles had got to know the Hale family by tagging along with his dad.

Talia and Alexander Hale had three children: Laura, the oldest and five years older than Stiles, Derek, three years older than Stiles, and Cora, the youngest and one year younger than Stiles. All three of them had turned out to be an Alpha, but despite their frankly intimidating aura, they were fairly easy to get along with.

During those boring functions Stiles had found himself drifting towards Derek every time, despite the resting bitch face the older boy had sported every time. Admittedly Stiles had been quite intimidated by him at first and in the beginning he had seriously expected Derek to throw him against a wall or something to make him shut up and stop his chattering.

Despite his standoffish nature, though, Derek hadn't minded Stiles' blabbering about every little thing that popped up in his mind and slowly they had started to get to know each other better.

And Stiles discovered he actually quite liked the surly werewolf. Derek had a dry sense of humour that Stiles could appreciate, a counter balance to his own brand of sarcasm, and he liked watching those multicoloured eyes lit up with excitement whenever Derek discussed something history or literature related. Despite the age and Class difference, Derek never made him feel stupid or lesser than him and Stiles appreciated that. At that time, though, he hadn't realised yet just what exactly he was feeling for the older boy.

Then Derek had attended his first Run and had mated with an older woman named Kate. Stiles still wasn't certain what exactly had happened, but his dad had been called for an emergency at the Hale manor four months after the mating and the next day Derek had left town for reasons nobody save for the rest of the Hales and Stiles' dad knew. And Stiles had felt lost, embarrassed that he had got so caught up in one guy and had buried everything he felt for Derek deep in the back of his mind. Denial had been so sweet for so long.

Now Derek had returned. A part of Stiles had feared that the older boy had completely forgotten about him, but that worry had turned to be completely unfounded when he had encountered Derek in the supermarket a couple of weeks ago. They had started talking again, sharing a coffee after school a couple of times, and Stiles knew –

The click he had felt before was still there. He still wanted to see Derek laugh genuinely, felt butterflies whenever their eyes met, still got embarrassingly lost in the Alpha's eyes. It was a fact that Derek had grown up very nicely throughout the entire time he had been gone – the pure muscle that guy packed was just unbelievably _unfair_. People who looked as handsome as Derek did shouldn't be allowed to have the perfect body as well on top of that, but life was clearly fucking unfair.

So yeah, Derek had grown up quite nicely – but he was still that same guy who was secretly a dork and loved discussing history with Stiles and debating with him whether Iron Man or Batman would win. He was still that same guy who could render Stiles speechless with just one look or one smile and who caused butterflies to race around in his stomach

Stiles still wasn't certain whether he actually had a shot with Derek. It was possible that the Alpha saw him as nothing but a good friend, but …

He _had_ said he would see Stiles at the Fertility Run. There was something in his eyes whenever he looked at Stiles, something that made the boy hope that he had a chance after all. That all those smiles and fleeting touches and glittering eyes were all just for _him_.

He knew he had promised his dad not to pin his hopes on Derek in case someone else found him first – which he sincerely doubted, because nobody had ever shown him an inkling of interest, not like Derek had done so far – or if Derek turned out not to be interested after all, but – he couldn't help it.

A part of him was hoping that Derek was there for _him_ , that when the time came for the barrier to be lowered that Derek would go chase after _him_.

Was it that bad to harbour a little spark of hope?

* * *

He couldn't remember the mayor's speech. He knew she had to have given one, as that was part of the tradition before the Run started, but he couldn't remember the words, couldn't recall the tone in which she spoke or even how she had been dressed.

His entire being had been focused on those intense eyes, feeling them stare at him even when he had turned his back towards the older man. The smouldering gaze had prickled his skin, had his fingers tingling and his stomach flipping, feeling hot even underneath the weak sunlight.

Now he was running through the woods, jumping over protruding, thick roots, dashing through bushes, ducking underneath heavy branches; his breath heavy and loud in his ears, his footsteps thundering across the uneven forest floor.

Nobody was allowed to change into their other form to keep it fair for everyone. In his other form, while smaller than a regular wolf, he would be faster and he'd have an easier time navigating through the trees. As it was, it was a damn miracle he hadn't tripped yet.

Something was spurring him on, though, a call in his blood that had him racing through the woods as fast as he could, leaving behind all the others. He didn't know whether someone was chasing him, hadn't heard anyone else near him in a while, but he didn't care.

All he cared about was going faster, going deeper into the woods, forcing whoever was behind him to prove themselves, show that they were stronger and quicker than him.

Prove that they were worthy of becoming his mate.

The trees sang, their branches caressing him lovingly as he sped past them, underneath them. The air vibrated with something unknown, the ground trilled and the light filtering through the rooftop guided him the way.

He was close, so close, he just needed to be a bit quicker, put more force behind his leaps and then …

Something slammed into him from the left side and they went down snarling and growling, hands and claws grappling, and legs kicking. They rolled around and around, now Stiles was on top, then the other one, then Stiles again before the other one – a man judging by the solid muscle and the heavy musky scent filtering into Stiles' nose – was pinning him down again.

Snarling, Stiles kicked out his legs, hell bent on pushing the other one away, but hands slammed his wrists down on the rough underground and then there were teeth resting against his neck, not biting down – not yet, but soon, very soon – and all the fight suddenly drained out of him, defeat making him slump on the ground.

Panting, his chest heaving up and down quickly, he opened his eyes – and when had he closed them? – and stared straight into glowing gold and green and blue, pupils wide, nearly swallowing up the myriad of colours.

"Derek," he breathed out, eyes widening in shock even as elation filled his body, making him feel like he was about to start floating.

 _Derek had caught him_. Derek had chased _him_ , had gone after him, and now he was pinning the Omega down with his entire body, his eyes ablaze and fangs showing, a deep rumble causing his chest to vibrate.

"Got you," Derek growled, smirking around his fangs.

Breathless laughter escaped Stiles and he clenched and relaxed his fists, claws tightening carefully around his wrists. Exhilarated – _Derek caught him, Derek wanted him, Derek liked him, oh fuck_ – he grinned and stretched up as much as the Alpha would allow. "Yeah, you did," he agreed, licking his own fangs. "What are you going to do now, hm?"

His smirk widening, Derek bent down and murmured, "I'm going to - "

A loud snarl interrupted him and their heads shot towards the sound. For a couple of seconds they saw nothing and they tensed up. Just as Stiles was wondering whether another couple was fighting near them, a figure emerged from behind a tree.

Theo Raeken.

"Sorry, Hale, but I saw him first," Theo murmured, his eyes glinting in the sunlight as he took a step closer, looking like a predator stalking its prey. "So why don't you get your claws off him, hm?"

Stiles didn't know Theo personally. All he knew was that the guy had moved into town a year ago and attended some classes with him. They had never interacted with each other, didn't even acknowledge each other, so what the hell? Who did Theo think he was that he thought he could stake a claim on him just like that?

Stiles huffed and rolled his eyes. It didn't matter anyway. Even if Theo challenged Derek, Derek was stronger and stubborn as fuck. He knew Derek wouldn't lose. He'd still hate it if they did come to blows about him, but the rules were clear about a situation like this: two Alpha were allowed to challenge each other if they wanted the same person. The only Class who wasn't allowed to challenge an Alpha and had to concede their defeat was …

Derek got off him and stepped away, his eyes downcast to the ground, even as his hands were clenched at his sides. _Conceding his defeat_.

Heart pounding – but for an entirely different reason now – Stiles scrambled up, his eyes darting back and forth between Derek and Theo. "Derek, why the hell …" Something wasn't right here, there had to be some kind of misunderstanding because –

Because the only Class not allowed to challenge an Alpha was a Beta. But Derek wasn't a Beta.

Right?

* * *

 **AN2: I guess the concept of the Fertility Run has already been used quite a lot before, but I'm hoping my take on this particular trope will still interest you :)**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: I'm so sorry for leaving you all hanging for this long! That was never my intention but the heat wave currently happening here has been draining my energy and cutting into my time of writing :/ Still, I apologise for taking so long!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Hikory; babyvfan; AgentAlexKrycek; Guest (I'm the same author yes; I post here and on two other sites)**

 **Warnings: Hm nothing special. Just a smidgen of angst I suppose**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it**

 **I hope you'll like this chapter!**

* * *

 _Chapter 2_

"Derek?" he repeated, growing more and more uncertain as seconds passed by in unsettling silence from the other man.

Derek refused to look at him, instead keeping his eyes firmly trained on the ground; his claws and fangs were still visible, but he made no attempt to challenge Theo with them. He just remained standing there stiffly, as immobile as a statue.

"Ah," Theo sighed; the sound loud and jarring in the tense silence which had fallen between them just now. "I thought you knew, Stiles."

When Stiles turned around to glare at him, the Alpha was looking at him apologetically. "You thought I knew _what_?" he asked through gritted teeth; Derek's continuous silence putting him more and more on edge.

Things had just started to become interesting, even as his mind was still reeling with the fact that Derek liked him too, but everything was going to shit now and panic was brewing in the pit of his stomach. He refused to show it, though, instead straightening out his shoulders and jutting out his chin. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this, right? Maybe Derek was just worried about him, not wanting to attack Theo in case Stiles ended up in the midst of the fray.

Nothing else made sense after all.

Theo glanced at Derek, but when the latter still remained mute, he shrugged. "That Hale's a Beta of course. I thought you knew that."

Stiles stared at him, sure that he had misheard him. Maybe the birds chirping high above them had distorted Theo's voice somewhat, because he couldn't have said that …

That Derek was a Beta, right? He couldn't be one, because he smelt like an Alpha! Theo had to be bullshitting now; there was no way Derek, who had smelt like an Alpha for as long as Stiles had known him, who was as powerful and fast as an Alpha, would be a _Beta_.

He would have known by now if Derek was a Beta, considering the time they had spent in each other's company. The idea of Derek being anything but an Alpha was absurd, laughable even!

Scoffing, he raised an eyebrow. "Yeah sure and I'm a king. You expect me to believe you?"

Theo nodded at Derek. "Ask him if you don't believe me. Hale, are you or are you not a Beta?"

Stiles looked at Derek, expecting to hear him scoff any second now and tell Theo to fuck off, because of course he was an Alpha. It would happen and then he and Derek could finally go back to messing around a bit before they would leave the forest and present themselves to the Council to announce their new bond. After that Stiles could go brag to Scott about his amazing mate and everything would be fine, perfect even!

Any moment now …

When Derek finally looked up, however, he wasn't sneering at Theo or showing other signs that he was annoyed by the Alpha's accusations. Instead, he looked … resigned, defeated even and Stiles' heart clenched; his palms growing clammy as he stared numbly at the other man.

Why wasn't Derek defending himself? Why was he just staring there with a look on his face that said – that said he couldn't disagree with Theo?

"I'm a Beta, Stiles," Derek said softly.

"What?" Stiles thought he could be forgiven for that shrill chuckle even if it made Derek wince. "No, no, you're not a Beta, stop joking around. You smell like an Alpha, you can't be a Beta, Derek!" he said agitatedly, but even as he said that, he knew.

Derek wouldn't lie about something as his Class, wouldn't joke about it, not when their bonding was at risk.

"I spend a lot of time with my sisters," Derek explained uncomfortably, looking utterly miserable. "Their scent – it often gets mixed up with my own and … And that's probably why I smell like an Alpha. I'm sorry, Stiles. I thought – I thought you knew I'm a Beta."

"Remember the rules, Hale," Theo remarked, crossing his arms.

Derek looked away, his fangs and claws slowly receding. "I'll – I'll go now."

Before Stiles could do or say anything to stop him, Derek disappeared, running off into the forest, leaving the Omega alone with Theo.

Numbly Stiles stared in the direction Derek had left, wondering whether this was really happening now. Maybe this whole thing was just a nightmare and he still needed to wake up and attend the Run? Quickly he pinched his arm and grimaced when the sharp stinging pain instantly registered. The spot he had pinched, reddened and he rubbed over it slowly, trying to understand what exactly had just occurred.

So Derek had chased after him, like he had dreamt about ever since he had realised that his feelings for the older man went beyond just mere companionship, and they had been so close to sealing the bond with a kiss and then Theo had appeared and fucked up everything. All because he was an Alpha and Derek was apparently a Beta and how could Stiles not have noticed that before?

Hot tears pricked against his eyeballs and he blinked rapidly, swallowing down the lump which was blocking his throat. He wasn't going to cry, not here in this damn forest and certainly not near the man who had just cost him a relationship he had actually wanted.

More than ever before he hated the Fertility Run and all those fucking archaic rules attached to it. If it weren't for those damned rules, he and Derek would have made their way to the Council now – or would have still been making out – and they could have started getting to know each other even better.

Instead Derek had been forced to take a step back and Theo got to go with Stiles to the Council, even though he hadn't done any chasing, hadn't proven that he was really suitable as a mate. He had hidden behind those stupid rules, forcing Derek to obey them or be fined and have his reputation – and that of the Hales as a whole – endure a strong blow.

The town still took the Fertility Run and its rules very seriously and not even a family considered to be the founders of the town would get leeway with those rules.

This had turned into one gigantic nightmare, but one he wouldn't wake up from, no matter how hard he tried.

"Stiles?"

Taking a deep breath, Stiles looked at Theo, who was studying him curiously. "Well, I suppose we should go to the Council now then. Daytime's wasting and all that," he said, waving his hand haphazardly around them. There were still some hours of daylight left, judging by the position of the sun, but the quicker they got this over with, the better.

 _Just six months_ , he reminded himself; his nails digging into his palms. _Just six months and you're free. What's six months? You've waited longer than that for a game to be released!_

Whilst true, it didn't really set him at ease. Six months seemed daunting all of a sudden, a time period which stretched out in front of him with no ending in sight.

Six months had never felt this long before.

"I know I'm not your first choice," Theo said carefully, smiling wryly.

Stiles had to bite on his tongue to prevent a sarcastic retort from slipping out. They were already off to a great start it seemed.

"But I hope you'll still give me a chance, so that we can get to know each other better," the Alpha continued; his blue eyes catching the sunlight being filtered through the leaves and making them glitter.

"No offense, Theo, but it's not like I have much of a choice about that," Stiles couldn't help but point out bitterly. Whether he wanted to or not, he was obligated to give Theo a chance.

If he could have got away with it, he would have straight up ignored the other man for the following six months, but if he did that, Theo was well in his rights to complain about that to the Council and those stuck up bastards would force Stiles to comply. Stiles' refusal wouldn't reflect well on the Sheriff either and he wasn't willing to risk his father's hard earned position just because he loathed the one who had 'caught' him.

Theo inclined his head. "I suppose not," he murmured and eyed Stiles strangely before offering a faint smile. "Well, let's go back then. We're quite deep into the forest, so it'll be a while before we're back."

Throwing a cursory look around him, Stiles realised for the first time that they were indeed quite deep into the forest. When he had been running, he had been following some kind of instinct which kept leading him further and further away and it hadn't occurred to him then just how far his instinct had led him.

Huh, he was apparently more athletic than he had thought. Hooray for him, he supposed.

* * *

The journey back to the field was a quiet one and Stiles mused humourlessly that his dad and Scott – and basically anyone who knew him – would be astonished by that, considering most of the time Stiles hardly knew when to shut up.

He could talk endlessly about even the most inane topic – Wikipedia had the strangest shit in their collection – but now his lips were sealed shut as he trudged beside Theo through the forest. He wasn't in the mood to talk to the Alpha; all he wanted was to go back home and stew and feel miserable about how the Run had ended for him. He knew he would have to talk to Theo eventually – unfortunately he couldn't spend six months ignoring the other man – but for today he wanted to stew in the injustice that was the Run and its stupid, backwards rules and mourn the fact that it would take at least six months before he and Derek could try being with each other.

If Derek still wanted him after this.

 _Sure, he does_ , he told himself in a weak attempt to cheer himself up. _He wouldn't have chased me throughout the entire forest if he didn't really want me. What's six months anyway? Nothing compared to the three years he was gone._

It wasn't like he couldn't talk to Derek in the meantime either. Nothing in the rules stated he could only be in contact with the one who had caught him – which was just as well, because there was no way in hell he would have given up his dad or Scott or even Mama McCall. As long as he didn't outright flirt with Derek or did anything that could even be vaguely misunderstood as 'cheating' on his partner, nothing stopped him from being with Derek.

He needed to talk to him as soon as possible, if only to reassure him that it didn't matter to him that Derek was a Beta and not an Alpha as Stiles had mistakenly assumed for all those years. Who cared whether his eyes flashed golden or red? Derek was Derek and that was all that mattered.

Just six more months and he could prove to Derek that his Class didn't matter at all.

He could do this. If he could survive a history project with Jackson ' _Look at me, I'm so fucking perfect_ ' Whittemore, then he could survive hanging out with Theo for six months.

No biggie. There were worse things in the universe.

* * *

One of the old dudes belonging to the Council looked quite perplexed when Theo announced he had caught Stiles and frankly, the Omega felt quite insulted. He wasn't that ugly, for fuck's sake! Sure, he might not look as boyishly pretty as Danny did nor as gorgeous as Derek or as handsome as Deputy Parrish, but he wasn't an entirely lost case!

Case in point: two men at least wanted him! Objectively speaking, Theo wasn't that hard on the eyes either. Not that he cared about that and not that he had actually wanted someone else aside from Derek to show interest in him, but he had made his point. He wasn't so undesirable that the old bastard had to look so surprised that someone had actually willingly caught him.

Once again he cursed the Fertility Run and the Council for keeping that tradition alive.

As soon as their names had been registered, Stiles stalked off, itching to leave as soon as possible. Even so, he glanced around when he reached the car park, hoping to spot Derek's Camaro so that he could talk with him.

No such luck. His shoulders slumped as he realised the car park was completely devoid of the familiar black car. There were still quite some cars parked, glinting in the sunlight, but Derek's car was so distinctive it would be difficult to miss it even with all these cars grouped together.

"Damn it," he sighed, running his hands over his face. Well, all was not lost yet. He knew where the Hales lived, so tomorrow he'd go over and talk to Derek to sort out this mess.

Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he started making his way to his blue jeep – as distinctive as the Camaro was – eager to go home for now and wallow in his misery for at least a little while. He figured he had earned that particular right with how shitty this day had turned out to be.

"Stiles!"

He halted and closed his eyes for a moment before slowly turning around, watching Theo hurry towards him. "What?" he asked flatly, not caring at the moment whether he sounded rude or not.

"I was wondering – would you want to grab a coffee with me tomorrow?" Theo asked, a tad breathless as he came to a stop in front of the Omega. "So that we can start getting to know each other better."

Stiles hesitated, shuffling with his feet. There wouldn't be any classes for a week to give the new couples some time together – and it being May, exams would start soon anyway – so he didn't really have an excuse to refuse. He guessed he could fib and tell Theo he needed to study, but he couldn't keep pushing it off. Perhaps it was like ripping off a band-aid: better to do it as quickly as possible.

Checking a sigh, he answered, "Yeah sure. When and where?"

"Two o'clock?" Theo suggested. "I'll drive you if that's okay with you."

"Sure," Stiles muttered, figuring it would save him on gas at least. "I'll see you tomorrow then." And stepped into his car before Theo could say anything else.

He resolutely refused to look at the Alpha when he drove off, passing several new couples who looked decidedly happier than he felt like.

Clenching his hands around the steering wheel, he repeated what was quickly becoming a mantra: _Just six months_.

He could do this.

* * *

When he arrived home, the house was dark and silent; his dad still patrolling the area of the Run. He'd be home in a couple of hours when the last stragglers had been registered and gone home.

For one brief moment Stiles could have been one of those stragglers while dad would have shaken his head in exasperation at seeing his son leave the woods as one of the last. He would have been happy for Stiles, though.

Shaking his head, he kicked off his shoes, _thump, thump_ against the wall, and dropped his keys in the ceramic bowl his mum had thought was cute while both men were of the firm opinion it was the ugliest thing they had ever had the misfortune to encounter. They never thought of throwing it out, though.

On bare feet he went into the kitchen to grab something to drink. His phone was charging on the counter and he picked it up, pulling the plug out of it, before retrieving the bottle of milk from the fridge. As he drank directly from the bottle – dad wasn't here to scold him about it anyway – he pressed on the home button and watched the screen light up. There was one new message waiting for him and he opened it, already knowing who had sent it before looking at the name.

Scott: _'Don't know when you're going to read this, but let me know how it went! I'm cheering for you, buddy!'_

The timestamp indicated that his best friend had sent the encouraging message at ten to ten – Stiles had already been waiting on the field then. Every participant had been forced to leave their phone behind in order to keep the playing field fair. Scott knew this and while Stiles' Run definitely hadn't turned out like he had wanted it to, he appreciated Scott's support nonetheless.

He just couldn't bring himself to reply to him yet. He wasn't in the right state of mind to deal with Scott's inevitable shock and the barrage of questions which would no doubt be unleashed. Stiles himself was still trying to come to terms with what had happened – he wasn't ready to deal with Scott's reaction.

Dropping his phone back onto the counter, he wiped his hand across his mouth and put the milk back into the fridge. Rising up again he glanced around the kitchen, wondering what he should do now. He could go upstairs, maybe take a shower or take a nap after the restless sleep he had had last night, but …

He was feeling too jittery to do any of those things. His thoughts were racing around, whirling like a hurricane and nervous energy thrummed through his veins, refusing to let him settle down and relax. His stomach was doing weird flips and he became hyper aware of the silence hanging heavily in the house.

Abruptly he stripped off his clothes, dropping them carelessly onto the floor in a crumpled pile, and walked to the door leading to the garden. He couldn't stay in the house, not when it was this dark and silent, without anything or anybody to distract him. He needed to move, to run freely and wildly, leave all this worries behind for now.

Slipping out of the door, he took care to close it before turning around to face the garden. Their garden went over into a small forest behind it; the line of thick, tall trees marking the end of their property.

Stretching out his limbs, he shook them loose and raised his head for a moment, studying the position of the sun. It was starting to set slowly, the intensity of its rays diminishing gradually, but he still had a few hours left before it would turn completely dark. Not that he was planning on staying away for hours.

He took the three steps down, almost stumbling over the last one. Feeling the grass between his toes, each individual blade tickling his skin, he closed his eyes and concentrated, allowing the change to take over. It had taken him a couple of years of practicing over and over again, growing frustrated with himself whenever he only managed to reach his demi form, but now the change rippled through him easily, contorting his muscles, organs and bones into the right shape smoothly.

A couple of seconds later, the naked man had disappeared, leaving a fox in his place with a shiny, deep read coat and a bushy tail with a white tip, looking like a large, animated paint brush. Black eyes opened and took in his surroundings; everything always looked so different whenever he assumed his form, mostly due to the sudden height difference. His tail swishing back and forth, he spent some time snuffling around the garden, picking up faint traces of mice, some birds and even a rabbit, which had all visited the garden at least once today.

The sound of a low pitched howl somewhere in the distance had him raising his head abruptly and for a moment he stood still, listening to the wind rustling through the leaves; the mice scurrying around underneath the bushes; the birds chirping and tweeting and arguing high up in the trees; some cars passing by and the baby granddaughter of Mrs. Wilson crying four houses down the street.

Energy thrummed in his veins and with a sudden burst of speed he took off, rushing into the small forest as fast as his paws allowed him to. He jumped gracefully over fall tree trunks, sped by a grey tabby cat who hissed at him and sprang away, startled birds when he ran straight at them, yapping and growling.

The forest was alive around him, welcoming him home with its many arms, encouraging him to go faster, further, higher. The scents lingering around in this place were as familiar to him as the scents in his home and he leapt over a berry bush; sharp, small teeth revealing themselves through a large grin as the feeling of exhilaration took over.

How many times hadn't he seen his mum run around in the forest, playing with him in her fox form? She had been incredibly beautiful as a fox; her red coat shimmery and full, her dark eyes alight with mischief when she mock fought with dad in his wolf form. She had seemed larger than life itself, appearing more like an ancient spirit of the forest than a common animal.

She had called the forest her home and had made sure her son felt welcome in it.

Ever since finding out he was a fox like his mum and not a wolf like his dad, he had dreamt of the day he would be able to run next to her in his full form; the both of them racing through the woods, side to side.

She had died before he had achieved his first transformation.

She hadn't lived long enough to see his full form, but even so, when he raced through these woods; when he inhaled the clean air, the scents dancing on it; when his paws touched the very same earth hers had touched once upon a time … He felt close to her, connected, as if her spirit had never truly left.

Here in this place, in this moment, he felt safe, protected, like nothing bad could happen to him as long as he was here. The woods took care of him, kept the bad thoughts away and for just this moment he didn't have to think of what he had left behind at the house.

He didn't think about Theo and how he would get through the upcoming six months. He didn't contemplate how his dad and Scott would react. He didn't worry about Derek's reaction and whether or not the man would be willing to wait for him.

Here all that mattered was the soft ground giving away underneath his paws, the tree branches creaking and leaves rustling, the peaceful gurgling noise of the creek nearby and the sunlight warming his coat.

For just this moment he felt _free_.

* * *

The sun was low against the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of red, orange and purple, when Stiles dragged his paws back to the house. It had been nice to spend time in the woods again, remembering as he had run through it why his mum had loved that place so much. His mind had been blissfully empty for those hours with his only concern being whether he could catch a fish without tumbling into the water himself.

But now the sun was setting and he had heard dad's car arriving a while ago and he knew he couldn't stay in the woods forever – no matter how tempting that idea was.

So with great reluctance, he slinked out of the cover of the trees and scurried to the house. The backdoor opened and he skidded inside, running past dad. After so much time spent between bushes and trees, he knew he had got dirty and a shower sounded great at the moment.

Dad didn't stop him when he raced upstairs still in his fox form, but instead started rummaging in the kitchen. On the landing Stiles stood still and concentrated again, shaking off his full form as easily as he had slipped into it. He took a few seconds to stretch his limbs and shake out his hands and legs – spending so much time in his full form always left him a bit disorientated once he turned back; his mind and body disconnecting for just a short moment before they realigned again.

Naked he strode into the bathroom, stepping into the shower before the water could properly warm up. Staring blankly at the wall in front of him allowed him to not start thinking just yet and on automatic pilot he washed himself, briskly but efficiently.

Once he figured he was clean enough, he shut off the shower and stepped out of it, nearly tripping over the edge and smashing his head onto the edge of the sink. Grimacing – why he never could be as graceful as a human as he was in his full form was a mystery to him – he snatched a towel out of the small closet and dried himself off quickly. After dropping the towel into the plastic basket – they'd have to do laundry soon, judging by the pile accumulated in it – he went into his room and changed into a faded grey shirt that hung loosely around his frame and shorts before making his way downstairs again.

Dad was waiting for him in the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate waiting on the table. At Stiles' raised eyebrow, dad shrugged and said, "I figured this was a day where you could use that."

"Thanks," Stiles smiled faintly, plopping down on the chair and dragging the mug towards him.

"How did it go?" Dad asked carefully. "Considering you went into the woods, is it safe to say that – it didn't go as you wanted?"

Stiles snorted at that and staring down into the steaming liquid, he mumbled, "Derek caught me."

"Oh." A pause. "I thought that was what you wanted?"

"It was," Stiles confirmed and looked up, but kept his eyes fixated on dad's collar. There was a smudge of red sauce there, clearly wiped away hastily and he wondered whether dad had cheated on his diet again and had eaten a hamburger before coming home. Any other day and he'd scold the older man for that, but now he couldn't bring himself to do that.

"But?"

"Derek caught me and then an Alpha appeared. Did you know Derek's a Beta?"

"Oh, Stiles," Dad sighed and when the younger man glanced at him, he saw him rubbing his face. "I'm sorry to hear that, kid. I know you wanted Derek to catch you."

"So you knew he's a Beta," Stiles muttered and slumped into his chair, bitterness rearing its ugly head once more. Had he been the only one who had been too stupid to catch Derek's real scent?

"I did, yeah. You thought he was an Alpha?"

"He smells like an Alpha."

"Well, I suppose he does. He hangs out with his sisters a lot," Dad murmured thoughtfully. When he looked at his son next, his eyes were full of apprehension and worry lurked deep within them. "Who's the Alpha?"

"Theo Raeken."

"Ah."

Silence fell between them as they sipped from their chocolate milk. Three cars had passed their house and the German Shepherd of their neighbours had barked to welcome his owners home before dad broke the silence again.

"What are you going to do now?"

Stiles rolled his shoulders and grimaced. "Get through these six months with Theo, I suppose. It's not like I have a choice." He scowled; his fingers tightening around the mug.

"And afterwards?"

Nibbling on his lower lip, he rubbed over his forehead. "Break it off with Theo and … hope that Derek will still want me by then," he replied in a low voice; a part of him not daring to hope for that.

Six months was quite a while – could he really expect Derek to wait for him that long? That wouldn't be really fair to him, right?

Dad's hand closing around his left one startled him and he looked up in surprise, catching dad's eyes. "Derek's not the type to change his mind so quickly," he reminded his son. "He'll wait for you, I'm sure."

"Six months is quite a while, dad," Stiles retorted, frowning even as he gripped dad's hand. "It wouldn't be fair to him to expect him to wait for that long."

"Six months is nothing," Dad scoffed, shaking his head. "Don't decide in his place, kid. I'm sure that if you talk to him, you'll find out he's more than willing to wait."

"Maybe," Stiles mumbled, still not entirely convinced. God, it'd be amazing if Derek was willing to wait for him, though …

"He will," Dad said confidently, retracting his hand. He took another sip before casually adding, "He didn't take off his eyes from you even once all that time you stood waiting there for the Run to begin. I'd say that counts for something."

Ducking his head, Stiles could feel his cheeks turning red and against his will, a smile spread out across his face.

Maybe, just maybe, things would turn out okay after all. After all, what were six months?

* * *

 **AN2: I hope this wasn't too bad! The chapter gave me a bit of trouble at times, but I hope it doesn't show ^^;**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **See you all in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Again apologies for the lateness of this chapter *winces* I knew which scenes I wanted, but getting the words on paper proved to be a tad more difficult than expected. I'm really sorry for the delay!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: My Fandom's Chose Me; Guest; yukino76; AgentAlexKrycek; FullMoonLuna; SevmyLuv; MoonIllusion; babyvfan**

 **Warnings: nothing really specific as far as I'm aware of**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 3_

"Aw, man, that really sucks," Scott said and the genuine regret in his voice made Stiles only feel slightly better.

"Yeah, I had some shit luck today," Stiles muttered, falling down on his bed on his back; his legs spread out and feet still resting on the floor.

The only light in his room came from the streetlamp outside and it threw an orange thin beam across his desk, over his bed and onto the wall. With how thin and faint it was, it barely provided any decent light, but he didn't want to get up and turn on his lamp.

It was already past midnight, long after the Run had finished, and he was only just now calling his best friend to tell him about what had happened. Scott wasn't bothered by the late hour; it wouldn't be the first time Stiles called him up in the middle of the night just to discuss something he had read on the internet and which couldn't wait until they saw each other in school.

"But well, at least you know now that Derek's into you?" Scott offered hesitatingly, sounding cautiously optimistic.

Out of the two of them, he was definitely the most optimistic one.

"That's true." Stiles frowned at his ceiling, watching the orange beam get briefly interrupted as the bulb flickered. That thing had been going off and on for a couple of weeks now; dad had mentioned it at the town hall, but so far they didn't seem in the mood to fix it.

"But?" Scott asked, knowing Stiles well enough that a ' _but_ ' would inevitably follow.

"But that doesn't mean he's going to wait six months," Stiles said, sighing frustratedly as he tugged at his hair. "He can always decide it's not worth the wait."

 _That I'm not worth the wait._

That dark thought spun around in his mind, bouncing back and forth even as he tried to ignore it. His conversation with dad earlier this evening had made him feel better about the whole ordeal, had even made him believe that Derek would be willing to wait an additional six months before they could have their first date, but now he was alone in his room and all his insecurities and doubts started to fester once more, hissing at him that there was no way for Derek to want him enough to be willing to wait.

"Pretty sure he came back after all this time for you, dude," Scott pointed out, annoyingly calm. "I don't know him like you do, but do you really think he'd have caught you if he wasn't serious about you?"

"No," Stiles answered reluctantly, biting down on his lip. Derek didn't do things on a whim. Laura might, sure, she was known to be rather impulsive at times, even Cora, but Derek had always been the most cautious one of all three, thinking first before doing something.

"You're going to talk to him soon, right?"

"Yeah, I'm planning on talking to him tomorrow – or well later today," he corrected himself, seeing as it was already past midnight.

"Just explain everything. It'll be fine," Scott said confidently.

"I hope so," Stiles muttered darkly and stifled a yawn. Usually he had no problems staying up late, but the shifting on top of the events of today had wiped him out quite badly. His eyelids were starting to burn subtly with the need for some good night's sleep.

"It will, you'll see."

They said their goodbyes when it became clear that Stiles' speech was starting to slur – not that Scott was doing any better, counting the various yawns that interspersed his side of their conversation.

Dropping his phone on his nightstand, he laid there for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling. After having kept his feelings for Derek a secret for such a long time, relief filled him at finally having come clean to his best friend. Better yet: Scott hadn't reacted badly at all!

He knew he should have had more trust in his buddy, but you could never know, right? It had been one thing to witness him so besotted with Lydia Martin, a girl their own age, but it was a whole other thing to hear that he had been nursing a crush on a guy three years older.

Sure, three years was nothing in the grand scheme of things, especially not since Stiles had recently turned eighteen, but still …

As he went to the bathroom to take a leak and brush his teeth, he could only hope that his conversation with Derek would go just as smoothly.

And as for Theo …

Just six months, he reminded himself, climbing into his bed again. Just six months and then he was free of Theo.

* * *

Typically he was not an early riser. He was the type of person to go to bed extremely late and sleep in until the last possible second. During school weeks this often left him rushing around during the mornings, trying to cram some toast in his mouth while at the same time dressing himself and making sure he had everything with him.

Weekends and holidays were meant to sleep in for as long as possible in his opinion and while he loved to do exactly that during the week they weren't required to be at school following the Run, when his alarm blared obnoxiously loud on Monday morning, instead of pressing the snooze button over and over again, he slammed it once and sat up.

Drowsily he looked around in his room, noticing the faint glow of the morning sun illuminating his room. His body still heavy with sleep, he was very tempted to just lie back down and go back to sleep for at least a couple more hours, but there was a reason why he had set his alarm for half past seven.

With a deep groan, he stood up, nearly tripping over his backpack – he seriously needed to start remembering to put that next to his desk instead of next to his bed. His coordination was already quite shit as it was, he didn't need more obstacles.

After finishing up in the bathroom he slipped back into his room to pull on some jeans he found thrown over his chair – they didn't look stained nor smelt badly, so they were deemed good enough – and a dark red sweatshirt. May might have rolled into Beacon Hills, but that didn't mean the weather would change to fit with the month.

Sure it was no longer dreadfully cold and he no longer felt like his balls would freeze off, but it was still rather chilly during the mornings. It would still be quite a while before he could dug out his T-shirts again.

Dad was already in the kitchen when Stiles stumbled inside, which made sense given that the man had a shift starting soon. The Sheriff raised an eyebrow as he watched his son amble to the cupboards in search for something to eat.

"You feeling all right, son?" he asked, sounding both wary and amused at the same time. "It's only eight o'clock – aren't you usually still asleep at this hour?"

"Yes, don't remind me," Stiles muttered darkly, deciding on a bowl of cereals because he was too lazy to make an omelette. He filled his mug with coffee on his way to the table and dropped down heavily on the chair.

"Any particular reason you're up so early?" Dad inquired, his eyes sharp as they studied the younger man. He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Didn't sleep well?"

Anyone else would think his dad hesitating before asking such an innocuous question was weird, but Stiles knew instantly what he was actually referring to. After his mother had died, Stiles had had awful nightmares for months. He hadn't been a stranger to waking up screaming and terrified out of his mind. His dad had been there for him every night to calm him down and soothe him back to sleep, no matter whether he had an early shift or not. Most of the time, though, Stiles had just remained awake, too scared to go back to sleep.

Given the way his day had ended yesterday, Stiles supposed he couldn't fault the older man for worrying that he had had another nightmare – especially given how early he had woken up.

"No, I set my alarm this early," he answered and didn't miss the way dad's shoulders slumped slightly in relief. "I want to talk to Derek and seeing as he always wakes up at a ridiculously early hour, I figured I'd best talk to him as soon as possible."

"It's only ' _ridiculously early_ ' for you, kid," Dad retorted dryly, draining the last bit of his coffee before standing up. "But I'm glad you're going to talk to him." He walked around the table and squeezed Stiles' shoulder softly. "Let me know how it went tonight, okay?"

"Sure thing, pops," Stiles said, forcing himself to smile. Already his stomach was doing odd twists and turns at the prospect of talking to Derek.

It was stupid, really. He had talked with Derek without any problems ever since he'd come back to town, but now the thought of speaking to him, asking him whether he was willing to wait, had his stomach cramping and his coffee tasting more bitter than normally.

"It'll be fine," Dad said, sounding confident. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, be safe."

"Always am."

* * *

The Hale house had never looked so daunting before as today. Peering up at it through the window shield of his Jeep, Stiles contemplated once more whether this was a good idea.

A part of him wanted to go back home, so certain that Derek would reject him and say he didn't want to wait another six months for him. Stiles wouldn't blame him if he reacted like that.

It was also possible, however, that Derek wouldn't mind waiting for half a year and he wouldn't know that for sure if he ran away like a coward now.

Not to mention – Derek had looked somewhat ashamed when he had to clarify he was a Beta and not an Alpha and Stiles wanted to erase any doubt the older man could have about Stiles' opinion about him. Sure, he had believed for years that Derek was an Alpha just like his sisters, but he hadn't started liking him because he was an Alpha, but simply because of who he was.

Alpha, Beta, Omega – it didn't matter to Stiles. Derek was Derek and Stiles would gladly prove that – as soon as Theo was out of the picture completely.

But to do that, he'd have to get out of the car first. Right.

Heaving a big sigh, he undid his seatbelt and stepped out of his car. Derek's Camaro was parked near the large house, next to a dark blue Mercedes – his father's car. Derek's car being here meant he was still home, right? Unless he had hitched a ride with someone else, but Stiles doubted that.

The front door opened before he had taken the last step onto the porch, revealing Laura dressed in an oversized dark blue shirt and white cotton shorts; her long legs and feet were bare and Stiles absently wondered whether she wasn't feeling at least a little bit chilly. She was leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and raised an eyebrow.

"Finally decided to leave the sanctuary of your car?" she questioned lightly.

He rubbed the back of his head and released a jittery chuckle. "Heh, nothing gets past you, huh?"

"It's hard to ignore the amount of noise your jeep makes, Stiles," she pointed out mildly; her eyes flashing with amusement before she grew solemn again. "You're here early," she said quietly.

"Eh yeah, I was," he took a deep breath, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, "I wanted to talk to Derek actually and I know you're all up really early so …" he trailed off, feeling uncomfortable underneath the scrutiny she subjected him to.

"I'm not so sure whether that's a good idea, Stiles," she said slowly and hey, at least she didn't sound pissed enough to bite his head off, so that was a good start.

"I'm not so sure either, but I really need to talk to him, Laura," he said, releasing a soft sigh.

"He told me you thought he was an Alpha." She tapped the fingers of her right hand against her left arm, crossing her ankles.

Exasperatedly he threw up his hands. "Yes, apparently I was the only idiot who got confused by his scent, big deal! It doesn't matter, I really need to talk to him."

"Didn't Theo Raeken catch you?" She frowned heavily; disapproval as an underlying current in her voice.

He scowled at the mention of the Alpha's name. "He didn't so much as catch me as use the rules of the Run against Derek and me," he retorted bitterly. "Trust me, if I had been up to me, Theo could fuck off for all I care."

She studied him in silence for a moment, seeming to debate about something, before she nodded slowly. "Derek's in his room. Second floor." She straightened up and took a few steps aside, clearing the way for him.

"Thanks," he muttered, slipping past her inside the large entrance hall.

The Hale family was a large one, with aunts and uncles and cousins dropping by frequently, so Stiles couldn't really discern any individual scent, except for some vague hints. Derek's scent was the only one which popped out the most, though, but that was probably because he had always been rather fixated on it. He'd probably be able to single it out even in a room with a thousand people pressed tightly together.

Bright blue eyes regarded him with some kind of dark amusement from the top of the staircase. "Oh good," Peter, Derek's uncle and a guy Stiles still hadn't figured out what to think of, said lightly. "You're here. The fun's not over yet." He sounded pleased, even though Stiles had no fucking clue what the hell he was talking about.

He squinted up at the Beta man. "Has anyone ever told you your cryptid comments are annoying?" he asked mildly, resting his hand on the banister. The staircase was made of some dark brown wood which gleamed in the light and felt smooth underneath his hand.

Peter hummed and descended the stairs. "There might have been a mention of that once or twice," he replied airily and smirked. "Do be careful with my nephew: he's in a delicate state now."

That made a loud, aggravated growl echo from somewhere upstairs and Stiles frowned at the older man, whose smirk only grew as he disappeared into the living room. When Stiles looked at Laura, she only shrugged and rolled her eyes, giving him a look that said 'What can you do?'

He pulled a face at her before steeling himself and slowly ascending the stairs. The closer he got to the landing, the more his stomach seemed to try to digest itself, which was a disconcerting feeling and had him scowling at himself. What the hell was he even nervous about? This was Derek, for fuck's sake! He had been talking to the man for weeks, what was the worst that could happen?

The worst that could happen would be the older man rejecting him, which okay, yeah, would suck majorly hard, but – well, at least he'd have his answer. There was no need to be this nervous, he was just being stupid.

Still he hesitated in front of the closed door, his hand curled into a fist hovering in front of it. There wasn't a need to guess which bedroom was Derek's on this floor; only one door was closed and the other rooms were empty, so unless Derek had moved to an entire different floor or scaled down the house through the window in his room, he still had to be in there.

 _Here goes nothing_ , he thought slightly hysterical and knocked on the door, shifting his weight from one leg to the other one and back. Derek most likely knew already that he was waiting here, but it would have still been impolite to just barge in.

Not that Stiles wasn't known to be impolite at times and simply barge into rooms even when he wasn't allowed to – his dad had a lot of experience with that – but this time it was different. It didn't feel right to just enter without giving Derek a chance to refuse.

Not after the way they had parted yesterday.

For a long moment there was no movement at all on the other side of the door and Stiles grew restless. How long should he wait here? Should he knock again or …

The door opened. Derek was dressed in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants, the muscles in his arms bulging as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Any other moment and Stiles would have definitely made use of Derek's lack of torso apparel to ogle his chest and rock hard abs – truly the man was like the embodiment of a Greek god – not to mention the arms rippling with strength, but this was definitely not to moment for that. It was in fact the furthest away from the right moment for such a thing.

"Can we talk?" he asked softly when Derek made no move to say or do anything else but stare at him with unreadable eyes.

The Beta man took a deep breath and let it out slowly before giving him a curt nod and stepping out of the way. The way he moved was so stiff, Stiles' own muscles hurt in sympathy. As Derek sat back down on his bed – a four poster bed with dark sheets which laid crumpled near the foot end – Stiles looked around slowly, taking in how the room looked.

It was rather spartan looking. There was a desk with some papers, a laptop, some pens and Derek's phone, which was currently charging. The desk itself stood right underneath the window, which looked out at the large garden. There was one single nightstand on the left of the bed and a trashcan on the other side. A wardrobe stood on the left of the desk and a sleeve of a green sweater was peeking through a gap in one of the doors.

The walls were painted a pale blue and bare except for a couple of picture frames with photos of the Hale family and Derek's siblings separately. The left wall was mainly dominated by a large bookcase, which was stuffed to the brim with all sorts of books: from encyclopaedias, to school textbooks, dictionaries, and novels – some even in other languages like Spanish and French.

The floor was completely hidden from view by a dark blue carpet which muffled his footsteps. The _click_ of the door as it fell shut was rather loud in the otherwise silent room.

"Why are you here, Stiles?" Derek asked quietly. He was sitting slightly hunched forwards, his hands dangling between his spread legs.

Stiles swallowed and offered him a wavering smile. His stomach churned uncomfortably as he said, "I just – I wanted to ask you something."

Derek frowned slightly. "Ask what?"

"Whether – and I know this is asking a lot of you, okay, I know that, but I figured I could still try, because I know I would keep kicking myself for the rest of my life if I didn't try and well, no pain, no gain, right? Although I guess that's not really the appropriate idiom in this case; maybe something along the lines of better to have tried and failed than to have never tried at all, which sounds better in this situation and I - "

"Stiles."

"Right, right," Stiles jerked his head down and licked his lips, clasping his hands together behind his back in an attempt to stop moving them. "I wanted – I wanted to ask whether you can wait six months for me and then we could continue where we left off yesterday?" he asked hopefully, but winced when he saw the utter blank look on Derek's face.

"Or you know, if you don't want to wait, that's totally fine, I get it, I mean, six months is not exactly a short period of time even though both my dad and Scott keep claiming it is, but then again, one's my dad and the other's my best friend and they're both kind of obligated to cheer me up, so I'm not sure whether their reassurances actually count," he babbled, growing only more and more nervous with each second that passed with complete silence on Derek's part.

"You're with Raeken," Derek cut him off abruptly; his voice harsh and rough and his eyes flashed as his hands curled into fists.

"Only because he used the rules against us," Stiles muttered, frowning. "He didn't even make the effort to chase me himself. Do you really think I would have chosen him if it wasn't for those stupid rules? I mean, I thought I made it pretty clear yesterday that I was completely ready for you to get up in all of this." He waved at his body impatiently.

Hazel coloured eyes squinted up at him. "You don't want him?" he asked slowly, looking like he didn't dare to believe the Omega.

Stiles stared at him incredulously. "Are you insane? Why the hell would I want him? I barely know that guy!" he bristled, balling his fists. "I'm counting down the days until the six months are over and I can leave him in fact! Seriously, wasn't it clear enough yesterday that I want _you_?" He felt his cheeks heat up at the admission, but he kept his eyes stubbornly fixed on the older man. Clearly Derek was having some misconceptions about what had happened yesterday and it was up to him to fix those.

"I thought – I thought you'd prefer an Alpha," Derek said haltingly, looking away with a frown. "Because you thought I was an Alpha before you found out."

"Derek, I don't care whether you're an Alpha or a Beta or an Omega," Stiles said determined, making his voice as firm as possible so that there wouldn't be any misunderstandings now. "Yeah, I got confused by your scent and thought you were an Alpha, so what? I like the person Derek, not whatever Status you have. Trust me when I say that if I had any choice, I would choose you immediately."

The small, shy smile Derek gave him made something in him twinge. Feeling a bit more encouraged by the smile, Stiles dared to take a few steps closer. "So, I know six months is a long time and if you don't want to wait, I understand," he said softly, "but would you be willing to wait for me? I'd like nothing more than to become your mate if you still want me."

"I'm serious about you, Stiles," Derek said quietly and rose up, closing the remaining distance between them swiftly. "Six months is nothing. I can wait that long."

Stiles' head shot up and he stared at the other man with wide eyes, his hands shooting out to grab Derek's. "You really mean it?" he asked hopefully, heart hammering madly in his chest. "You'll wait for me?"

Strong, slightly larger hands squeezed his tenderly, entwining their fingers together and Stiles' heart skipped a beat at the warmth radiating against his hands.

Staring down into large, Bambi brown eyes, Derek smiled and raised their hands to drop a kiss on Stiles'. "What's six months?"

What was six months indeed?

* * *

 **AN2: I figured this would be a nice way to end the chapter; light fluff before the inevitable shit storm starts.**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: It's officially not a month yet since I posted the previous chapter LOL**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; babyvfan; kittymyth96 and Almondweb**

 **Warnings: Hm, nothing really special that I can think of**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 4_

The ride to whatever place Theo had chosen went by in silence. As happy as Stiles had felt this morning after his talk with Derek, as uneasy he felt right now. He knew he had to power through this, try to make the best of it as he still had six months with Theo, but all he wished for was for the upcoming half year to go by as fast as possible.

The place they ended up at turned out to be the quant café which had opened its doors around a year ago. It was located in the better part of Beacon Hills and that reflected in the prices as well. Stiles had never set foot inside, both because it was on the other side of the town and because it was rather expensive and he knew better ways to spend his money.

A bell rang somewhere when they stepped inside, letting the glass door swing shut behind them. The café was already half filled with some couples, some girls chattering and letting out peals of laughter every once in a while and a businessman working on his laptop.

As they waited in line behind an elderly couple who were taking their time to decide what they wanted, Stiles looked around; curiosity peaking in spite of himself.

The walls were covered midway with wooden panels and the rest was painted a creamy white. The tables were round and made out of dark wood while the chairs were padded with a red cushion. The space was lit by fake candles hanging on the walls, though there was barely a need for those as daylight was spilling liberally through the large windows.

The display case was filled with all sorts of cakes and pastries and Stiles made a mental note never to bring his dad here. They did look rather tasty, though; he might as well try a slice of that chocolate strawberry cake now that he was here anyway.

"What do you want? My treat," Theo smiled when the elderly couple shuffled away with their coffees and apple cake.

Normally Stiles would insist on paying for his own stuff, but he still needed to refill his gas tank and the prices in front of the pastries and written on the chalkboard behind the perky barista were too high for his wallet – unless he wanted to get stranded somewhere.

Which he really didn't, so. Yeah.

"Just a coffee and a slice of that strawberry chocolate cake, please," he smiled strained, ignoring the way the barista's eyes were flicking between him and Theo intently as if she was trying to figure out whether she was serving a couple on a date or not.

Honestly if she wanted Theo, she was welcome to have him if she could convince the Council.

Theo picked up their tray before Stiles could and he nearly bit through his tongue in an effort to keep his sharp remark back. He might be an Omega, but he was perfectly capable of carrying a tray, thank you very much.

He needed to act at least civil towards Theo if he didn't want the Alpha to file a complaint with the Council, though, so instead he followed the other man towards a more secluded corner of the café, the furthest one away from the counter and the exit.

As soon as they had sat down across from each other, Stiles decided to no longer beat around the bush and asked bluntly, "So care to tell me why you chose me? No offense, but it's not like you and I have talked that much."

"Straight to the point, huh?" Theo chuckled and gently pushed Stiles' cup of coffee towards him, together with the dainty, white plate which held a thick slice of gooey chocolate cake with strawberry filling in the middle.

Stiles shrugged, cutting off a piece from the cake with his fork. "It's why we're here, right?" He gestured with the fork around them, nearly flinging the cake of it. "To get to know each other better?" He shoved the cake in his mouth before he could accidentally drop it on the floor. The flavours instantly burst apart in his mouth and it took him quite some restraint to not close his eyes and moan in bliss as the rich taste of chocolate filled his mouth.

Fuck, but this was some good cake. No wonder this place was popular despite the outrageous prices.

Theo was eyeing him oddly when Stiles looked at him, but as soon as he met the Omega's gaze, he shook his head and leant back in his chair. A faint rose hue dusted his cheeks all of a sudden and all the confidence that he'd exuded before seemed to evaporate just like that.

"It's true we haven't talked much," he admitted, sounding a bit chagrined.

 _How about not at all?_ , Stiles wanted to suggest, but he kept his mouth shut for once. His dad would be so proud of him for showing so much damn restraint.

"But I've had my eye on you for quite some time now," Theo continued, playing with the spoon in his own cup of tea.

"Then why not just approach me at school? Why go through all the trouble of the Run?" Stiles questioned bemused. Banking it all on the Run seemed like a dangerous thing to do. If Derek had caught him sooner, then Theo wouldn't even had had a chance to exert his right as an Alpha.

His chest clenched at the thought of how close he'd come to being Derek's mate from the start and he forced himself to concentrate on what Theo was saying.

"You're going to think it's ridiculous," Theo laughed softly, embarrassment colouring his voice as he looked away, seeming more interested in the empty table next to them than in the man sitting across from him.

"Try me," Stiles retorted dryly.

"My parents – they met during the Run and they always told me and my little brother how happy that had made them. It made them feel like they were destined for each other," Theo said quietly; his eyes gaining a distant sheen. "They looked so in love every time they told us that story that I – I promised myself I would have a story like theirs too one day. That I'd catch my mate during the Run too and that we'd be as happy as my parents were."

Oh crap, now Stiles felt like such a dickhead and he stifled a groan. Of course Theo would have some kind of romantic reason behind approaching Stiles only during the Run instead of asking him out at school. _Of fucking course_. It couldn't have been something as easy as Theo just wanting to rub it in Derek's face.

It hadn't escaped his notice either that Theo was referring to his parents in the past tense and there could only be one reason for that.

Being in the same situation with his own mother, Stiles was aware that offering platitudes as "I'm sorry for your loss." would be useless and instead he steered the conversation back to a safer place. "I still think it would have been easier if you'd just asked me on a date at school, you know. You were taking a big risk there, trusting the Run and all that."

Theo shrugged and offered him an impish smile, his eyes glittering mischievously. "No risk, no gain, right? I just decided to trust on destiny." He winked, sipping from his tea.

It burned on Stiles' tongue to correct him and set him straight about the whole destiny bullshit when he hadn't done anything to really chase Stiles, but he knew he had to play nice for now. If he didn't at least pretend to try getting to know Theo better, then it would take him much longer than six months to be with Derek.

 _Six months and then I'll be with Derek_ , he reminded himself before plastering a smile on his face and cutting off another piece from his cake. "So, what movies do you like?"

* * *

"His explanation is actually quite romantic, no?" Scott mused aloud, star fished across Stiles' bed. "That's not that bad, right?"

"So he isn't a complete douchebag, yay," Stiles retorted sarcastically, turning his swivel chair back and forth. The wheels squeaked a bit in protest, but they had been doing that for a couple of years now and they still hadn't given the ghost, so he'd be fine. Probably.

"Hey, it could be worse," Scott pointed out, turning his head to face his best friend.

Their holiday was nearly finished, but the two friends had only seen each other for the first time today since they had parted ways last week. The day after the Run, Scott and Kira had left to stay a couple of days in a cottage that Kira's family owned. The reception in that area was shit, so Stiles hadn't been able to talk to the Beta until today.

Scott had returned home late last night, but aside from the occasional yawn, he didn't show his exhaustion as he listened to Stiles rant about Theo.

"Maybe, but now I kind of feel like a dick." Stiles frowned, despising that feeling. He was self-aware enough to realise that yes, he could act like a dick a lot, but the majority of those times the other person really deserved his attitude.

Theo's reasoning for waiting until the Run made acting like a dick more difficult, given that his reason was attached to his parents' memory. Even Stiles wasn't such a jackass that he would make fun of a loved one's memory.

Sometimes having a conscience really sucked balls.

"Well, you didn't laugh right in his face," Scott spoke comfortingly, giving him an optimistic smile. "That has to count for something! It's not your fault you're not into him."

"Still doesn't make this whole thing easier," Stiles grimaced, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Maybe not," Scott allowed; his smile dimming a bit. "But it's only six months. After that you'll be free to be with Derek, so just concentrate on that, okay?"

"I guess," Stiles sighed before deciding to be a gracious best friend and asking, "So, what have you and Kira been up to when you were gone?"

Scott had listened to him ranting about Theo, the least he could do was listen to Scott wax poetry about his girlfriend for the umpteenth time – even if his gushing would last a whole lot longer than Stiles' whining had done.

But at least it would allow him to forget this whole situation with Theo for a moment, so there was that.

* * *

"You managed to catch Theo Raeken?"

The prim voice had him blinking as he resurfaced from his chemistry book and he looked up dazed. "Lydia?"

Lydia, the first and only woman he'd lost his heart to big time, stood in front of his table, looking down at him with an unimpressed look on her face. Not a surprise there.

Her strawberry blonde hair was done in loose curls today, which fell softly over her breasts. Her emerald green sweater made her eyes pop even more than her eyeliner did and her short, brown skirt showed off her long legs, which ended in a pair of high, black heels.

She was a vision of the gods and if Stiles hadn't realised a couple of years ago that they worked better as friends during a literature project – and that he would never have a shot with her – he'd probably be drooling all over himself at the sight of her.

As it was, he still swallowed a bit when she folded her arms underneath her chest, emphasising it a bit.

"You, Theo Raeken, spill," she ordered, before plunking her designer bag on the table and sliding into the chair across from him.

"How did you hear about that? School's barely started," he hissed, looking around quickly to check whether someone else was listening.

None of the others looked to be eavesdropping, though a guy – one a year younger than them – was gaping at Lydia.

"You think news like that won't travel fast?" she scoffed, throwing her hair backwards. "Please, Stiles, we're talking about Raeken here – be glad I'm the one confronting you about it and not someone else."

"There's nothing to talk about." Stiles scowled, putting the cap back on his marker. With Lydia intent on squeezing information out of him, there was no way he'd get any studying done until she was gone.

She'd also probably pierce him with her bright red painted sharp nails if she even thought for a second that she didn't hold his complete attention.

"You don't really expect me to believe that, hm?" The smile she gave him was dangerously sharp and for a very brief moment her eyes flashed blue; her animal side breaking through the surface.

"Okay look." He raised his hands in surrender and sighed. "If I had had my way, I wouldn't be with Theo at all. But those stupid Run rules have basically shackled me down for the next six months."

That had her calming down and she leant forwards; irritation making way for interest. "You're interested in someone else?"

"Yes, and he had actually caught me before Theo showed up," he replied sourly, running a hand through his hair. "He used his Alpha Status to get the other one to back down."

"The one you want is a Beta then?" she asked knowingly and there was a flicker of sympathy stirring in her eyes.

For all that she could be quite ruthless, she was capable of showing sympathy – if she deemed you worthy of it, that was. Fortunately for Stiles he had gone from being considered nothing but an annoying pest to an actual friend of hers. He still wasn't quite sure how he had managed to inflict that particular change.

Maybe it was because he had realised that she was more than just a pretty girl and once he had got to actually know her, he had acknowledged that they would never work out romantically. Not in this lifetime anyway.

"Yeah, he is," he admitted, twirling his marker between his fingers. "And you know how the rules of the Run work."

"I do," she murmured, crossing her arms on the table. Lucky girl that she was, she had been exempt from taking part of the Run, because she already had a mate. "You got an idea as to why Raeken is interested in you? I didn't hear about him approaching you before."

"That's because he didn't," he said wryly. "He told me it's because his parents met during the Run and he wanted a romantic tale like that too."

She tilted her head to the right. "So what are you going to do now?"

"Be civil to him, wait out the six months and then I'll go be with the one I'm actually interested in," he explained bluntly.

She pursed her lips. "Sounds like a decent plan."

"But? You sound like there's a 'but' coming," Stiles demanded, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Just be careful," she cautioned him, rising up from her seat. "You might not be interested in Raeken, but plenty of others are and there are quite a few of them who are not happy now."

"They're welcome to have him," he said irritated, throwing his marker down. "Be my guest, I'd say!"

She clucked her tongue. "Don't let them get to you," she advised him before picking up her bag again. "To be honest, though, you could have done worse than Raeken." She smirked and walked away; her high heels clacking sharply against the floor.

"I could do a whole lot better too," he muttered underneath his breath, grabbing another marker from his pencase. "What are you looking at?" He glared at the brunette who was practically gawking at him for some reason.

She glowered right back, but retreated behind a row of bookcases. He wondered whether she was one of those people Lydia had just warned him about. He couldn't think of any other reason why the girl – who he had never met before – would be staring at him now.

Well, if she and all the other fans of Raeken just kept it to foul looks, he figured he'd be fine.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked blankly when Theo smoothly slipped into the seat next to him, placing his own lunch on the table.

The other man quirked an eyebrow, looking at him amused. "Sitting with my mate, what else do you think I'm doing?"

Seriously? Stiles frowned. "You do realise that we're not officially mates, right? Only after the six month period is over and we both agree to keep going." _Which I won't_ , he added mentally.

"Not officially, no, but this period is also meant to get to know each other better, remember?" Theo smiled, looking a bit smug. "Nothing wrong with sitting together at lunch and getting to know your friends, right?"

Stiles automatically caught Scott's eyes, who shrugged at him helplessly. Damn, he supposed he didn't really have a choice. Well, he supposed there was nothing wrong with getting to know each other better. Maybe he'd even be able to consider Theo a friend at the end of all this.

"I suppose so," he agreed reluctantly before waving haphazardly at Scott and Kira. "This is Scott, my best friend, and Kira, his mate. Guys, this is Theo."

"It's nice to meet you," Kira smiled, holding out her hand. Her long, dark hair was into two braids today and she absently swept them over her shoulders.

"Nice to meet you too," Theo smiled back, shaking her hand, before shaking Scott's. "So you two are mates, huh? From before the Run or during?"

"From before," Scott grinned, instantly adopting that stupid, dopey look he always had on his face nowadays whenever he had the chance to talk about Kira. "I met her five months ago when she brought in an injured kitten to the vet – I work part time there."

"And you instantly clicked?" Theo asked curiously, absently stirring his fork through his mashed potatoes.

Scott and Kira shared a look and they both grinned; Kira blushing even a little bit. They were being so ridiculously adorable, it made Stiles want to vomit.

"Pretty much, yeah," Kira told him, smiling widely. Her blush deepened a bit when Scott wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "I kept going back there to check on the kitten and we started talking to each other and I don't know, it's just clicked, you know?"

"It really did," Scott agreed enthusiastically, dropping a kiss on her cheek.

Stiles wrinkled his nose at the sight, but couldn't find it in him to be really annoyed. His best friend was obviously really happy and Stiles was happy for him – but it wouldn't hurt if they toned down the whole lovey-dovyness just a bit. He felt like he was watching one of those ultra-cheesy romantic movies on repeat and let it be known that he'd never been quite fond of movies like that.

He also didn't want either of them to give Theo any stupid ideas like wrapping his arm around Stiles or god forbid, kissing him. All right, maybe he'd allow the arm part just to prove he wasn't actively sabotaging the whole process, but he drew the line at kissing. He still had the right to some boundaries.

"So you think you're going to stay mates?"

Theo's question drew Stiles out of his thoughts and he blinked, focusing back on the conversation going on around him.

"Yeah, I really think so," Scott answered and this time the dopey smile on his face was gone, replaced by a softer one aimed at Kira, who smiled equally as soft back, her dark eyes glittering.

Hm, maybe Stiles should be thinking about how he would write his best man's speech – because there was no way Scott wouldn't choose him as his best man – because clearly Scott and Kira were more serious about their relationship than he had expected.

Not that he had thought it was just a whim, because his best friend wasn't like that, but he hadn't realised they were this serious about their relationship either. He didn't think he could be blamed for that, though, considering they had only been together for four months so far.

"Must be nice to be so certain of that," Theo murmured and his tone was so wistful, Stiles didn't dare to look at him.

Fortunately for the Omega, Kira decided to be merciful – whether she did that on purpose or not, that didn't matter – and asked, "So how did your chemistry test go, Stiles?"

He gave her a deadpan look, even if he was secretly happy about the change in subject, and replied sarcastically, "It went amazing, how could it not with Harris as a teacher?"

She grimaced, wrinkling her nose. "That bad?"

Harris was like the bogeyman out of the scary stories. Every student, no exception, hated his guts and the feeling was quite mutual they were all sure of that. Harris seemed to thrive on the misery of his students and appeared to be in a competition with himself about how hard he could make each test.

If you loved chemistry before you had him as your teacher, you would develop a burning hatred for it just because it became associated with Harris. He was just that miserable and awful as a teacher.

Frankly Stiles wasn't certain how the man was still working here, given the fact that many people complained his tests were unfair and impossibly difficult on purpose and the failing grade was exceptionally high compared to the other classes.

Why the man had even accepted a job as a teacher when he clearly loathed the profession would remain a mystery for the ages.

"I should normally pass it," Stiles said, pursing his lips. "I studied with Lydia and when I went over the answers with her afterwards, she had the same ones, so."

Nobody dared to fail Lydia Martin, not even the infamous Harris. Meaning if Lydia passed the test, Stiles would too, given that they had written down the same answers. Even Harris wasn't so stupid as to deliberately fail a student while passing another one when the proof was literally there on paper. Not even the principal would be on his side then.

Scott groaned miserably, thumping his head down on the table. "I probably failed so badly," he mumbled against the sticky surface of the table.

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," Kira soothed him, running her fingers through his hair.

Stiles snorted and smirked, "Yeah, it will be considering he was distracted when he was supposed to be studying."

He had even warned the Beta boy that letting himself get distracted by his girlfriend's messages would come back to bite him in the butt, but of course Scott hadn't wanted to listen to him.

Scott looked up briefly to glare at him. "Some kind of best friend you are," he complained and sat up with a grunt. "Mom's going to kill me if I fail this test."

"Should have thought about that sooner," Stiles hummed, ignoring the way Theo was looking back and forth between him and Scott with an amused look on his face.

"I'll just have to make it up with the exams," Scott said determined, nodding to himself.

"Good luck with that!" Stiles couldn't help but snicker, because he knew all too well just how abysmal Scott's marks were for chemistry. He'd have to study day and night, not be in contact with Kira at all, and pray for a goddamn miracle all at once if he even hoped to have a shot at passing the class this year.

"You're supposed to be supportive, Stiles," Scott complained, grimacing. He plopped his elbow down on the table, narrowly missing his plate. "You're planning to do something before we have to start studying?"

Stiles opened his mouth to suggest they could hold a game night before they had to buckle down to study, when Theo suddenly placed his arm around his shoulder, tugging him flush against the Alpha's body.

Stiles could only freeze and stare at him in shock as he said grinning, "I thought I could take Stiles out to the park. We might as well have some fun times before the exams take over."

"The park? Oh, that sounds like a great idea! We all could get together and play some frisbee," a female voice suddenly piped up behind Stiles. "What do you think, babe? I think it's a great idea to relieve some stress before the exams."

"Whatever you want."

There was no mistaking the way Theo stiffened next to him and when Stiles twisted around in his chair, forcing Theo to remove his arm, he blinked owlishly at the three people standing right in front of him.

Isaac nodded at him politely, his ever present scarf wrapped around his neck even in this warm weather, and Boyd inclined his head silently. The big muscled guy never had been particularly loquacious. Holding his hand was his girlfriend, a blonde bombshell with bright red painted lips and a dangerous grin playing around her mouth, who listened to the name Erica.

As the four at the table stared at them, Erica winked and promptly sat down next to Stiles, tugging Boyd with her. Isaac followed easily, sitting down next to Scott.

Turning around to face Theo, she asked brightly, "So when do you want to meet up? It'll have to be somewhere next week, though, given that the exams start the week after."

And as Stiles could practically hear Theo gritting his teeth together, all he could think of was, _What the hell is Derek's posse doing here?_

* * *

 **AN2: I'm taking quite some liberties with when exactly the exams take place and when school ends for them. Just an FYI.**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: I actually managed to finish this one last night - a miracle!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Myxes; yukino76; babyvfan**

 **Warnings: hm, a scheming Erica I suppose**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 5_

Stiles still had yet to understand the whole situation between Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Derek. While the same age as Stiles, the three had been hanging out with Derek since they were thirteen and either they had stayed in contact with the older man during his absence or they didn't hold it against him for disappearing for three years and had resumed their friendship just like that.

Whichever it was, the three of them had hung out with Derek so often in the past that a lot of people had started to consider them as a pack of their own. With none of them being an Alpha, forming an actual one was not possible of course, but the fact remained that the four of them seemed to create a pack of their own. Some people were speculating that Isaac, Erica and Boyd would become part of the Hale pack soon.

In spite of their friendship with Derek, Stiles had never spoken much with them before. They formed their own group and Stiles had Scott; both little groups didn't interact with each other.

Until today apparently.

The entire lunch period was spent with Erica and Isaac discussing other games they could play in the park and what kind of lunch to pack and who would bring which snacks, with Scott, Kira and Stiles occasionally chipping in. Boyd was his usual silent self while Theo seemed to be brooding, giving terse replies whenever someone asked him something.

Stiles honestly had no idea what to think of the sudden additions to their table. Why were those three suddenly so adamant about meeting up in a park with them? They had never interacted much with each other before, so what had changed?

He had to admit that a part of him was relieved, even happy with their intrusion, though. They – well, mainly Erica – had managed to completely derail Theo's plans for what Stiles assumed was supposed to have been their first 'date'. He realised he wouldn't get a lucky break like this every time, but he was going to jump on this chance when it was presented to him – even if he was slightly weirded out by the unexpected presence of the three others.

But hey, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth!

The bell ringing shrilly announced the end of the lunch period and at once the cafeteria was filled with the loud noise of chairs scraping backwards and trays being discarded into the appropriate carts.

"Stiles, I was thinking," Theo started, but Erica's hand snagging Stiles backwards had him abruptly shutting up and narrowing his eyes.

"Sorry, Theo – your name is Theo, right?" she smiled, linking her arm with Stiles' and pressing up closely against his shoulder. "But I'm going to have to borrow Stiles for just a little bit longer. I still need to give him his mathematics notes back and they're at my locker. It was nice talking to you!" She waved at him cheerfully and dragged Stiles away with a surprising amount of strength, ignoring his spluttering.

"I'm going ahead, Stiles," Scott called out, his arm resting around Kira's shoulders, and Stiles rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend was going to use this time to make out with his girlfriend – even if they were supposed to be in class in ten minutes.

Whatever, if Scott wasn't going to save him from Erica's claws, he wasn't about to hash out an excuse to the teacher if his buddy ended up being late again.

"I never gave you any notes," Stiles told Erica flatly, aware of Boyd and Isaac following closely behind them.

She slowed down a bit and gave him an unimpressed look, jerking her head towards the doors which were falling shut behind them. "You want to go back to your lovely Alpha there? Be my guest." Her smile this time was razor sharp and her nails dug into his arm just a little bit firmer.

"He's not my Alpha," he muttered, looking away. "Still want to know why you're dragging me away, though."

Should he become concerned? Had he somehow pissed them off – even though he wouldn't know how he could have possibly done that, seeing as again, they had never really interacted before – and were they going to extract some revenge now? Shit, maybe he should have stayed behind with Theo after all.

Surprisingly Erica didn't speak until they reached her locker; some students were straggling at the other end of the hallway, but for the most part the corridor was empty. She released him, but given her position and that of the other two boys, Stiles was basically stuck against the lockers with no way out.

Yeah, this definitely wasn't giving him any flashbacks of Jackson shoving him inside a locker several times when they had been thirteen years old – that year Jackson had particular excelled at being a douche.

"Relax, okay?" she huffed, opening her locker and rummaging through it. "You look like we're about to kill you and hide your corpse somewhere. We're just going to talk, geez."

"You have to admit that this whole thing," Stiles gestured between them four wildly, "isn't exactly normal. Excuse me for being weirded out right now! Since when do we talk?!"

"Since apparently you've caught Derek's eye," Isaac murmured; throwing a wary glance at the three girls who were loudly discussing a date one of them had had this weekend. "And if you're going to be part of the pack someday, we might as well start talking now, hm?"

Stiles choked. "Part of the pack? Who told you that?" he squeaked, his heartbeat quickening, and his stomach suddenly twisting upside down. He'd thought he and Derek had been discreet during their last conversation! There was no way anyone else could have known what they had been discussing – unless Derek had opened his mouth? Why would he do that, though? He knew they couldn't risk anyone knowing what Stiles was planning to do after six months. They'd accuse him of not treating Theo fairly and this whole bullshit would start all over again!

What the fuck had Derek been thinking?!

"Calm down," Boyd said quietly, crossing his arms. "Derek didn't tell us if that's what you're worried about."

"Then why the hell are you assuming - "

"We could smell you on him after the Run," Isaac interrupted him, grimacing. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "He didn't want to talk to us, said it was between you and him. We figured we'd talk to him later, but then Peter let it slip that you stopped by last week and we got curious when Derek seemed happier all of a sudden." He shrugged before smirking and adding, "Well, as happy as he can look at least. He was less broody so that was our answer."

"We kept pestering him until he told us why you're not with him now," Erica continued, looking completely unapologetic that she had basically bullied her friend into confessing. "We considered getting rid of Theo at first, but that's bound to get messy and it's not like either of us have an in with the police." She winked, pulling a small, dark blue bag out of her locker.

Stiles wished he could be certain that she was joking, but her heartbeat was rather steady and there was a dangerous glint in her eyes. Christ, what kind of people did Derek hang out with?

"So, we figured – "

" _She_ mostly decided," Boyd said dryly.

"- that we would help you out whenever possible," she continued serenely, ignoring her boyfriend's interruption. "I guess you still have to go on some dates with Raeken," she grimaced, wrinkling her nose, "but we can still crash some of those!"

"You're going to get in trouble if he suspects something," Stiles warned her, eyeing the bag warily.

Flippantly she waved her hand and snorted. "There's no rule that says that you can't meet up with friends." She raised an eyebrow and said mischievously, "And who doesn't want to get to know their future mate's friends?"

"I'm pretty sure it's going to go wrong at some point," Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair, "but whatever. I appreciate it, I guess. What's in the bag?"

The wide grin on her face, the amused glint in Boyd's eyes and the smirk lingering around Isaac's lips had him instantly suspicious. Nothing good could come out of those looks.

"Consider this an early ' _Welcome to the pack_ ' sort of gift," she chirped, holding out the bag, waving it back and forth insistently when Stiles didn't take it immediately.

Still incredibly wary of whatever could cause those reactions, he refused to look inside the bag and frowned. "What's in it?" he repeated. The bag was incredibly light and he was starting to wonder whether this wasn't some sort of prank with the bag being completely empty.

"Derek's shirt," she smiled impishly and his mouth dropped open in shock. "He wore it the entire day and night, especially for you! We thought you might appreciate the scent of your future mate." She swiftly leant forwards and pecked his cheek. "If you want to return the favour, I'm sure Derek wouldn't mind," she purred in his ear before pulling away and slamming her locker shut. "We'll see you later, Stiles!"

She basically skipped away, Boyd walking calmly next to her while Isaac meandered behind them, his hands stuck in his pockets.

Looking for all the world like they hadn't just given Stiles a shirt of their packmate. A shirt which was apparently soaked in Derek's scent.

And Stiles was holding it. Right now. They had given him one of Derek's shirts.

What the fuck? How was this his life even?

He stood there frozen, his mind still attempting to compute what had just happened, when the bell rang for the last time in a rather taunting way.

Reminding him that he was now officially late to his history class.

Fuck.

* * *

He told himself he'd hide the bag somewhere in the depths of his closet, because well – it was _Derek's shirt._ What the hell else was he supposed to do with it? Why had he even got it? He'd really like to ask Derek whether he even knew a shirt of his was gone, because he wouldn't put it past Erica to simply steal one, but what was he going to do _if_ the older man was aware of it?

Somehow the idea of Derek deliberately giving a shirt was more embarrassing to contemplate than the idea of having to tell the oblivious Beta that his packmate had stolen a shirt and given it to him.

Staring at the bag in his hand, he suddenly wondered why the hell he wasn't driving over to the Hales to give the shirt back. Like, what was stopping him? There was no reason for him to keep the shirt. If they had been mates, then sure, Stiles could have worn the shirt and let their scents mix together, but clearly he couldn't do that. That would be …

Just no, he couldn't do that. That would be really wrong.

So he just had to get into his car with the bag and drop it off, explaining to Derek that Erica had given it to him for god knew what reason. Easy. Then Derek could tell off Erica and Stiles wouldn't be bothered by any other weird gifts the girl might have in mind.

Fuck, he really hoped this would be the only weird gift.

The material of the bag gleamed in the light and with a groan, Stiles dropped down on his bed; the mattress squeaking underneath his weight. He really should give the shirt back, but …

A part – larger than he liked to admit – didn't want to return the bag. That part was thrilled with the knowledge that he had something of Derek with him – and god, since when had he turned so creepy? – and didn't want to let go of it. But what could he do with it? Even if Derek's scent wasn't infused in it, the size of the shirt alone would be a big enough clue that it wasn't one of Stiles, so he could hardly wear it without making Theo suspicious.

The last thing he needed was for Theo to get suspicious or feel offended.

Fuck it, he'd just stow the bag away in the closet and forget about it for now. If Derek ended up asking after it, he could always give it back then. No harm done.

Just to be sure, though, he stuffed it into the deepest corner and covered it with some old sweaters and shirts for good measure. There, now nobody would be able to find it. Not that many people outside of his dad and Scott would come into his room, but better safe than sorry, right?

His phone buzzing obnoxiously loud on the edge of his desk alerted him to the fact that he had an incoming text and after closing the closet door, he crossed his room to snatch the device off the desk. The screen was lit up, announcing that Lydia had texted him and he pursed his lips.

Lydia texting him after school was finished could only mean one of two things: either she needed a study buddy – which wouldn't be that farfetched with the exams coming up – or worse, she wanted to go shopping and her boyfriend couldn't accompany her because of his shift at the station.

"Damn it, Lydia," he sighed when he opened the message and saw it was the latter of the two options – or the evil option as he liked to call it, because while he really loved that girl, shopping with her was absolute torture.

As if she had a sixth sense, his phone started buzzing once more, filling the room with the Batman tune, as her name flashed across the screen. Pulling a face, but knowing better than to ignore her, he accepted the call.

"Do I really have to?" he whined before she could even get a word in.

Lydia huffed. "Jordan got the late shift today and I need a dress for the graduation party, so yes, you really have to."

"We still have to do the exams, why the hell are you already talking about dresses?"

"Please, as if I'm going to fail," she replied haughtily, but well, she had the right to, given her perfect marks.

"Point taken," he allowed. "But you're still a couple of weeks too early."

"Stiles, sweetheart, do you really think it's a smart idea to wait until right before the party?" she asked condescendingly. "Now's the perfect time because I still have plenty of choice and there won't be hordes of other girls getting in my way."

He guessed she had a point there as well; still didn't mean he wanted to go shopping with her. "Who says I don't have plans with Scott?"

"He's on a date with Kira; you'll be lucky if you'll even get a text tonight," she answered curtly.

He hated how much she knew. "Eugh, fine," he gave in reluctantly, shoving his feet back into his shoes. "But only for two hours, okay? I've got other things to do than carrying your stuff around."

* * *

They ended up staying at the mall for four hours, because Stiles was a whipped idiot who couldn't refuse his strawberry haired queen.

Fortunately she did find her dress – a deep green strapless one which flared out around her legs and had small glittering stones embedded into the fabric, making her look like a sea goddess rising up from the ocean – and was merciful enough to decide to find an appropriate pair of shoes on another day.

Stiles was pretty sure his own feet wouldn't have survived if he had to visit every damn shoe store in that mall. The things he did for his friends, honestly.

* * *

The rest of the week, Erica, Boyd and Isaac kept joining them during the lunch period, cheerfully discussing their plans to visit the park next week. They seem to take their decision to interfere as much as possible between Stiles and Theo quite seriously, because every time Theo attempted to take him aside – maybe to ask him out on a date without the others crashing it – one of the three was always there, seemingly popping out of nowhere, and coincidentally always needing Stiles' help with something.

That got Theo visibly frustrated, but he backed off every time even if it was with obvious great reluctance. Stiles was actually starting to feel a bit sorry for the guy; if he was really interested in the Omega, it had to be incredibly irritating to have all his attempts at asking out Stiles on a proper date thwarted by the same people every time.

He didn't feel sorry enough to tell them to back off, though. That most likely made him a douche – it definitely wouldn't make him win the 'Mate of the Year' award any time soon, that was for sure – but he wasn't looking forward to an actual date with Theo. He could handle becoming friends, he guessed, but there was no doubt Theo would want more than that.

The longer Stiles could push off the moment that he had to go on an actual date with the Alpha, the better.

* * *

"Did you get those vanilla cookies?" Dad sounded distracted on the other end of the phone, most likely looking through a file while he was calling him.

Stiles rolled his eyes, placing the grocery bags on the ground for a moment so that he could open the trunk. "Of course I didn't; you know too much sugar isn't good for you," he scolded the older man, hauling the bags one by one inside the car.

"There's nothing wrong with the occasional treat," Dad grumbled.

"No, there isn't," Stiles agreed before continuing, "But the problem is that I know it won't stop with just one cookie when you start, dad. I've seen the evidence!"

"I didn't eat that box all at once!" Dad protested. "That took me at least two months to finish!"

"Uhuh, you're still not getting any cookies," Stiles retorted unimpressed.

"What kind of son are you?" Dad asked put out, making the younger man roll his eyes.

"A son who likes his dad healthy and alive," he shot back. "Since when is that a crime?"

"Since that means I can't even – what?" Dad cut himself off and then his voice became muted as if he was covering the phone.

Guessing that someone had just entered the sheriff's office, Stiles waited patiently until the older man was done discussing whatever needed to be discussed and slammed the trunk shut once the last bag was in it. While he wouldn't get his dad any cookies, he wasn't entirely cruel; he'd got him some lean steak to enjoy for dinner tonight, but he'd keep that one a secret until his dad was home.

"Sorry, son, but I've got to go. There's been a breakthrough in Mrs Sanders' case, so I'll see you tonight, okay?" Dad apologised when he came back.

"It's fine; Scott might come over this afternoon."

"Sure, no problem. Tell him I said hi."

"Will do." They hung up and he stuffed his phone in his pocket, making his way to the driver's side. As he opened the door – well, more like wrenched it open, because this door had been quite stubborn for the last couple of weeks – a voice calling out to him stopped him from getting behind the wheel.

"Stiles?"

Heart skipping a beat, he turned around and a grin automatically spread across his face when Derek approached him, having parked his car a couple of feet away. "Delegated to do the grocery shopping?" he asked, knowing that the Hales always sent a different person each week to buy the groceries. Cora had once offhandedly mentioned that their mother had decided on that as a way to spread the chores between them all.

Smiling wryly, Derek nodded, halting in front of him. "Yeah, apparently it's my turn this week. Got a whole list."

"The list that long you need to take your mother's car to carry it all back?" Stiles asked amused, nodding at the giant white SUV which belonged to Talia.

"Yeah, celebrating a cousin's birthday tomorrow, so we're stocking up," Derek replied and shrugged. "How you're doing?"

The Omega raised an eyebrow. "The exams are coming up soon, what do you think?"

The wide grin stretching across Derek's face had Stiles gripping the door handle a bit tighter. Fuck, a smile like this one on that face should be fucking illegal.

"Like you need to worry about your grades," Derek teased, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His dark green shirt stretched out across his muscles and Stiles forced himself not to stare at the way the cloth was plastered against that hard chest.

"Still doesn't mean I'm looking forward to them," he said, pursing his lips.

"I don't think a lot of people look forward to those."

Stiles uttered an agreeing noise and hesitated for a brief moment, wondering whether he should really bring it up or not. In the end he decided, screw it, and blurted out, "Do you know Erica gave me one of your shirts last Monday?" Instantly he clamped his mouth shut, but the damage was done and he flushed brightly when the Beta quirked a heavy eyebrow.

He really just had to run his mouth, huh? Couldn't have just kept quiet about it until Derek had mentioned it. What was he supposed to say when the other man asked him why he'd kept it for so long instead of returning it immediately? God, this was so embarrassing!

The atmosphere between them changed subtly, becoming charged with a particular sort of tension which grew worse when Derek leant forwards, coming so close all Stiles had to do was tilt his head a bit in order for their lips to meet. That thought only had his cheeks reddening even more and he stood there rigidly, eyes wide, while multicoloured eyes darkened a tad.

"I know," Derek murmured; his voice so low it sent shivers down Stiles' spine. "I gave it to her."

That … Oh shit, wow, he hadn't – hadn't expected that. That was – how was he supposed to react now? His brain seemed to go in immediate emergency lockdown, leaving him to stare at the older man like an idiot as he desperately scrambled to come up with something to say to that revelation, but naturally today was the day his ability to blabber had decided to abandon him.

Brain down, blabber ability zero – Stiles was out.

"I know you can't wear it yet, but I thought it might help a bit to get you through these six months," Derek went on, his voice still low and his eyes intense when they locked onto whiskey brown ones.

"That's – that's quite thoughtful of you," Stiles managed to bring out in a squeak, a part of him fearing he'd be permanently flushed red after this conversation.

"That's me," Derek hummed and then apparently decided to be merciful because he pulled back; his face losing some intensity. "I'll see you around, Stiles," he said abruptly before turning around and striding away, as if nothing weird had happened between them.

"Eh yeah, I'll see you around," Stiles answered somewhat belated, feeling dazed as he finally slid behind the wheel, slamming the door shut behind him.

Staring at the black rubber peeling off the steering wheel, he silently asked the universe, _What the hell just happened?_

The universe did not answer him, surprise, surprise.

* * *

"Is everyone here?" Scott looked around curiously when Isaac sauntered up towards them.

It was Friday afternoon, a couple of days before the exams would start, and they had all agreed to meet at the entrance of the park to play some frisbee and have a late picknick to let off some steam before they would be forced to dive into their books for the next upcoming weeks.

With ' _agreed_ ' Stiles meant that Erica had basically decided everything and hadn't given anyone else the chance to really object. That was why Theo was standing next to him rather stiffly, obviously still pissed that Erica had basically hijacked his would be first date with Stiles.

Their group eventually turned out to be made of Stiles, Scott, Kira, Theo, Erica, Boyd, Isaac and to Stiles' surprise, Lydia as well. She was dressed like she was on her way to the catwalk instead of heading out for an afternoon of fun with friends, but he didn't think she was planning on participating in any of the games they might come up. Why she'd decided to join them was a mystery to him, though, and when he asked her, she'd refused to answer him, bar telling him that she was just looking for an afternoon to wind down with some people before she'd start studying.

It wasn't like he minded her presence, though. As long as Jackson wouldn't come too, he was fine with whoever decided to tag along.

"Nope, still waiting for one person to arrive," Erica answered, popping her bright pink bubble gum. She was completely wrapped around Boyd, her arms slung around his neck, and nuzzled his cheek occasionally. "He should be here soon, though."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Stiles asked curiously, "Oh, who else did you invite?"

She winked at him but before she could reply, the sound of a car parking nearby had her perking up. "Speak of the devil," she said fondly, unwrapping herself from Boyd. "He's here."

Curiosity piqued, Stiles turned around and –

Came face to face with Derek.

Derek, who was staring at Theo, who was staring right back at him with a completely blank look on his face, but there was no mistaking the tension in his body.

Stiles could only pray this supposed friendly gathering wouldn't end in any bloodshed.

* * *

 **AN2: Who doesn't love a scheming Erica? :D**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Consider this the final set up for the story; starting from this point the story will slowly grow darker. Also yes, the whole exam period is probably not how it goes in real life in the US, but bear with me, please ^^;**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: out of control wiht OCs; yukino76; babyvfan**

 **Warnings: some minor time skips, but nothing really bad that needs a warning**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 6_

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Stiles hissed as they all made their way deeper into the park.

Erica raised an eyebrow. "What? You're not happy to have all your friends here?" she asked innocently, but her eyes gleamed and a dangerous smile played around his lips.

"Cut the bullshit, Erica," he said in a low voice, eyeing Derek and Theo warily. Kira was talking with Derek while Lydia had sunk her claws into Theo for some reason. They were discussing something seriously judging by the looks on their faces, but at least it kept Theo from reacting badly to Derek's presence.

"What the hell were you thinking? This is just asking for trouble," he continued agitatedly, running a hand through his hair.

Yeah, he hadn't minded a 'buffer' in the form of his friends, but having Derek join? That was just too risky, given how much Theo obviously didn't enjoy the Beta's presence. He hadn't said anything to Derek when the man had joined them, but one had to be completely blind to not notice the way Theo had stiffened. He already hadn't been in the greatest of moods to have Stiles' friends join them – just how was he going to react to Derek's presence?

"Relax, it's just a gathering of friends," she said, rolling her eyes. "It'll only be a big deal if you make one out of it."

"I am so sorry I don't want any blood being shed today," Stiles muttered snarky.

"Now you're exaggerating. Everything will be fine," she retorted flippantly, smacking his shoulder before skipping to the front to cosy up to Boyd again.

He was left glowering at her back, questioning silently why he'd ever thought accepting her offer to help had been a good idea. She seemed to thrive on stirring trouble and while in general Stiles was prone to stirring the occasional trouble as well, he could only hope that trouble wouldn't find them today.

Scott popping up next to him had him tearing his gaze away from Erica. "What's up?"

Scott grinned, wrapping his arm around Stiles' neck. "Just claiming you as my teammate already if we end up playing a game of frisbee," he stated before pausing and adding thoughtfully, "Well you and Kira of course."

"Of course," Stiles snorted, because Scott couldn't not play with his girlfriend in his team. It didn't matter to Stiles, though; in fact he was rather happy about it. For all that Kira came across as demure and sweet, she was absolutely vicious and unforgiven when it came to sports and he'd rather have her on his team than against him.

"Look, I know you're not entirely happy with what Erica did," Scott said, growing serious and lowering his voice so that others wouldn't overhear them. "But what's the worst that can happen? We're in a public place; nobody's going to start a fight here."

"I hope you're right," Stiles mumbled darkly. He definitely didn't want to explain to his dad why a fight had broken out in a park of all places.

"Come on, you guys! Any slower and it'll be nightfall by the time we get to our spot!" Erica called out and set the example by quickening her pace, tugging Boyd along with her.

There was some huffing and eye rolling but in the end everyone hurried up; all eager to enjoy their last free moments before exams would demand their full attention.

* * *

Their get together went rather … well actually. It surprised Stiles, because he'd expected at least one skirmish to happen, but everyone remained quite civil – and with everyone he meant Derek and Theo. The both of them stayed away from one another the whole time they were at the park, even during their little picnic, but they also didn't antagonise each other, so Stiles counted that as a major win.

Even if it was rather awkward to be sitting right between them with both of them ignoring each other.

But whatever, he'd prefer them ignoring each other over them beating the crap out of each other. The deputies of his dad would have a field day if they got called to a scene like _that_.

When the sun was slowly descending in the sky, late afternoon inching into early evening, Erica dragged Theo, Scott and Isaac with her to buy ice cream from a local vendor who'd set up shop near the fountain. Lydia had settled herself on the blanket underneath a large tree, still keeping to the shade despite the hour and talking with Kira about their dresses for the graduation party. Boyd was lying a bit further on the grass, seemingly asleep.

Stiles had plopped down underneath the shade of another tree, slurping his soda through a straw. He'd given his ice cream order to Scott and hoped his friend wouldn't forget about it. Ah well, even if he had, Stiles was pretty sure Theo had been listening when he'd given his order, so he'd get his ice cream either way he supposed.

A large shadow was cast over him and he looked up, squinting a bit. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of Derek offering a faint smile before he dropped down next to him, their thighs brushing against each other. It was the first time they sat so close today and Stiles was quite aware of the warm limb against his.

"Hey," he said stupidly, letting the straw slip from between his lips.

"Hey," Derek said amused before he uttered a soft sigh and glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I'm sorry about Erica, okay? I didn't want to come because I thought it'd make things awkward with Raeken, but you know how she is." He grimaced, looking put out. She'd probably badgered him until he'd finally given in; Erica was not someone to take no for an answer.

Stiles shrugged. "Hey, no worries. I figured this was all her idea," he said, bumping his shoulder against the older man's. "Besides, it's not so bad. There hasn't been any maiming or mangling so I'm quite happy."

Derek snorted. "How uncivil do you think we are?" he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Says the one who growled when Isaac wanted to take the last sandwich," Stiles retorted unimpressed.

"He'd already eaten three more than I had," Derek mumbled petulantly, as if that was enough justification to growl at an unofficial pack mate.

"The greedy bastard," Stiles said mock outraged and snickered when Derek bared his teeth at him. Mirth dying out, he pursed his lips and then admitted softly, "I'm glad you came, though."

"Yeah, me too," Derek said after a short pause before he shifted and stood up. "They're here with the ice cream."

Turning his head, Stiles saw the four of them approaching their little group. Unsurprisingly Erica was only carrying hers and Boyd's order which she handed over to him with a pick on his lips when he sat up. Scott carried the ice cream for himself, Kira and Lydia, while Isaac pressed a cone with three vanilla scoops in Derek's hand.

"And my ice cream?" Stiles raised an eyebrow when Scott was left empty handed save for his own order.

Smiling sheepishly, Scott jerked his thumb at Theo who stood a bit behind, holding two ice creams. "Couldn't carry another one, so he ended up carrying it."

"Huh." Standing up, he took a few seconds to brush some stray grass blades off his shorts before he went over to Theo.

The Alpha held out a cone which had scoops of strawberry, chocolate and pistachio balancing precariously on it. "I don't think it has started melting yet, but I wouldn't wait too long with eating it either," he said good-naturedly. His own cone had one scoop of vanilla and one with chocolate.

"Thanks," Stiles smiled, starting on the deliciously icy cold treat immediately. The sun wasn't that hot yet, but that didn't mean the ice wouldn't start melting soon. Noticing Theo wandering off, he stood there for a moment longer, hesitating before going after the other boy.

He thought he could feel eyes lingering on his back, but he paid no attention to them and instead followed Theo to the shade of an old willow, several feet away from the group.

Theo seemed a bit surprised when he came to stand next to him. "You didn't have to follow me," he remarked cautiously; his eyes flickering back and forth between Stiles and the others. "You can sit with your friends, I don't mind."

"True, but you're not really comfortable around them, right?" Stiles commented, keeping his voice purposefully light.

It still made Theo stiffen and his face turned blank. "I don't have anything against them," he said in a neutral voice. "I just – don't really know them yet. Besides, they're your friends – I can hardly hope to date you if I can't get along with your friends, no?"

"I know you don't have anything against them, but I guess they did kind of crash what was supposed to be a date, right?" Stiles said and a stab of guilt shot through him. It was irrational, especially because he didn't want to date Theo in the first place and certainly didn't mind the buffer his friends provided, but looking at Theo doing his best to have a good time with people he didn't know just because he wanted to date Stiles … Yeah, that did make a small part in him feel guilty.

Damn it, he hadn't expected to actually feel guilty about his friends crashing this supposed date.

"It's fine," Theo said hastily, waving his hand. "It would have been rather weird to have a first date right before the exams anyway. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Nothing weird about that," Stiles muttered, looking away with a slight frown. Some of the pistachio ice cream started dripping onto his hand and he quickly licked it off before it could make his whole hand sticky.

"I was thinking that maybe – maybe we could go on a date after the exams are over?" Theo suggested hesitatingly. "We'll have a week until graduation then and it's not like we'll still have classes to attend."

"Sounds good," the Omega mumbled, attacking the chocolate ice cream. His tongue and mouth were slowly growing numb because of the cold treat and he ran his tongue over his lips.

"And if you want … We could study together?"

When Stiles turned to look at him, the Alpha hastily raised both hands, almost dropping his ice cream onto the grass. "Just studying, I promise. Nothing else," he smiled wryly.

In spite of himself, Stiles snorted amused, somehow managing to get ice onto his nose, and replied, "Yeah sure, we can study together – that is if you don't mind Lydia occasionally crashing our little study party."

Glancing at the red head, Theo muttered, "I don't mind. I don't think she would let my opinion deter her, though."

Well, at least he'd figured out how Lydia worked; that was something. "Yeah no, she wouldn't let that stop her," Stiles confirmed, throwing the girl a quick smile when she briefly glanced at him. She raised an eyebrow before turning back to Kira and Scott.

Their ice cream was finished by the time the sun had set low in the sky, painting everything in deep orange, red and yellow. It wouldn't be long anymore before dusk would settle in completely and the park would close for the night.

Erica waited until everyone was gathered together again before retrieving a frisbee from the bag she'd packed, holding it up with a triumphant smirk plastered across her deep pink lips. "Anyone up for a last game of frisbee?"

* * *

Exam period started out with a relatively easy subject, history, and as long as Stiles didn't let himself get distracted by a million of other subjects he'd browsed through on Wikipedia during the weekend, he figured he'd easily ace that particular exam. It was literally just remembering dates, some important people's names, and events; nothing complicated about that. Sure, some events might need to be compared with each other in an essay form, but at least it didn't deal with formulas like chemistry.

Chemistry ended up being his fourth exam and surprisingly his study session with Theo – sessions which had started after their first exam – turned out to be quite helpful in this case.

"Can't we just ask Danny to hack into the school system and retrieve the chemistry exams?" Stiles suggested whiningly, dropping his head onto the dining table with a loud groan.

"Or you could quit your whining and actually study," Lydia reminded him coolly and the sharp edge of her pencil was hovering dangerously close to his vulnerable hand.

"Didn't you pass all the tests before?" Theo asked confused, twirling a pen between his slender fingers. He was sat across from Stiles and occasionally his foot would bump against the Omega's leg whenever he moved.

"Yes, but Harris hates me," Stiles bemoaned, refusing to lift his head up even when Lydia poked him warningly in his arm with her pen.

"He might hate your guts, but he won't be able to do anything if you get perfect grades, which I know you are capable of, so sit up or so help me god, Stiles," she hissed, narrowing her eyes. The sunlight falling through the window set her curly hair alight, making it appear as if she was surrounded by flames. Somehow that picture combined with her hissing tone came across as ominous, like she would attack him any moment now.

Knowing how on edge she became during exam periods – which was so weird, because she was the smartest in the whole school, bar Stiles, and there was absolutely no question that she would graduate with flying colours – and having realised a long time ago that she made no idle threats, he hastened to comply before she could decide on how she'd punish him.

Given her current mood, the punishment definitely wouldn't be of the fun variety.

"Lydia, light of my life, you always know just how to motivate me," he told her with pursed lips, scrubbing his cheek and hoping the ink of his pen hadn't got the chance to stain his skin. Not that it would be the first time that he'd have ink on his face, but whatever.

"I know," she smiled sweetly before jabbing her pencil at his book. "Now study."

"Where's McCall by the way?" Theo asked absentmindedly, most of his attention on the equation he was trying to solve. "I thought he'd be here too, considering you're joined at the hip."

Shrugging, Stiles answered, "He's studying with Kira at her place." Tilting his head to the right and staring at the ceiling he added contemplatively, "That and apparently Lydia scares the shit out of him during study sessions. Don't know why."

The girl in question just huffed, turning the page in her book whilst solving her third equation in the last ten minutes.

Theo muttered something that sounded a lot like "I can wager a guess," which had Lydia throwing him a sharp look. She received a grin in return which had her rolling her eyes and returning to her book.

Silence reigned for a while before the various formula started swimming in front of Stiles' eyes and he threw down his pencil petulantly, leaning back in his chair until it lifted off the floor and he ended up balancing on two legs of it.

"Seriously, can't we ask Danny?" he began anew, ignoring Lydia gritting her teeth. "He owes you from that one party still, doesn't he? I doubt he'll say no to you."

"Stiles, for god's sake, will you - "

"Is there a part you're struggling with?" Theo interrupted her calmly, remaining completely unbothered when she scowled at him.

Eyeing him curiously, Stiles admitted after a short pause, "I could use a bit of help with this part." He tapped on chapter six; the pages of it dogeared and several parts highlighted. It was, in his opinion, the hardest part in the entire syllabus and knowing his luck, a large part of the exam tomorrow would be focused on it.

"Oh, the theory in that one isn't as complicated as it looks," Theo reassured him, changing chairs so that he ended up sitting next to Stiles. Dragging the book closer to him, he started, "See, they use this formula when they want to …"

* * *

Chapter six did turn out to be a large part of the exam as Stiles had expected. Thanks to Theo's help, though, he was certain he hadn't failed that part – or any of the other parts – and it was with a smirk that he handed over his finished exam the next day to Harris, who gave him a foul look before walking to the next student.

God, he couldn't wait to be finally rid of that guy. Stiles was pretty certain the feeling was mutual in Harris' case.

* * *

The next exams passed by uneventfully – something Stiles couldn't say about Scott, who had called him in the middle of Friday night to panic about their Spanish exam – and very soon he only had one exam left on Friday, which was English and would be a piece of cake compared to Chemistry.

It being Wednesday, he went down to the Sheriff's station to drop dinner off for his dad, who had the night shift and would most likely resort to eating greasy hamburgers if Stiles wasn't there to ply him with healthy food.

"How are your exams going? Only one left, right?" Dad asked, cutting off a piece of his grilled chicken. He was in between cases now, so he had time to chat with his son for a bit.

"They're going." Stiles shrugged, gnawing absently on his thumb. "Only got English left and that one should be a breeze."

"How are you holding up?" Dad gave him a sympathetic look, knowing how restless Stiles must be by now.

Stiles had always been rather active, constantly having to do something even if it was just jiggling a leg, but exams made it ten times worse because he couldn't just disappear into the woods for hours to release some of that pent up energy. Well, technically he could, but he tended to lose track of time when he shifted and he couldn't risk that during times he had to buckle down and study hard.

Especially when a time like this one would determine whether he'd finally graduate or not.

"Erm, fine, I guess, going to be happy once everything's done," he replied with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "First thing I'm going to do after my exam's finished this Friday is going for a run."

That had dad grimacing for some reason and Stiles raised an eyebrow. "What? It's not like I have anything else to do afterwards."

"It's not that, son, it's just …" The Sheriff hesitated, mulling something over before he uttered a sigh and dragged a hand over his face, dropping his fork into the plastic bowl. "If you go for a run, I'd prefer it if you take someone with you."

"Why?" Stiles demanded suspiciously, leaning forwards. The look of reluctance on dad's face only made his suspicion grow. "Dad, did something happen?"

"All right, I'll tell you, but you have to swear you keep out of this one, you hear me? I'm serious, Stiles, I don't want you to stick your nose in it," Dad said sharply, looking at him warningly. "If I find out you're sniffling around, you're grounded for a year."

"I'm going to college in September," Stiles pointed out blankly, but he shoved his chair forwards; excitement brewing in the pit of his belly. His dad's warning could only mean one thing: he was working on a very interesting case and it had nothing to do with either theft or a burglary.

"I don't care. You stick your nose where it doesn't belong and you can kiss your laptop, your phone, and any outings with your friends goodbye," Dad said firmly, staring at his son until the younger man nodded in understanding.

"I get it, dad, I promise I'll stay out of it," Stiles promised. Well, he'd stay out of it, but surely a bit of online research, depending on what the case was about, wouldn't be that bad …

Dad eyed him warily, as if he could somehow hear what Stiles was thinking, before he sighed and started eating again. "We're still in the early stages of the investigation, but during the last two weeks two bodies have been found in the Preserve."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Stiles asked, "Locals or tourists? Not a natural death either?"

"The autopsy will have to give full conclusion whether they died a natural death or not, but we can only expect that report somewhere next week. The pathologist is backed up a bit due to a couple of murders in another city," Dad answered, rubbing his forehead. "The two were from a nearby town, probably went on a day trip to the Preserve here."

"But you don't think it's a natural death," Stiles said knowingly, fiddling with a loose thread of his T-shirt. He wondered when the two bodies had been found. It had to have been during one of his dad's shifts because he couldn't recall the older man leaving the house on a time he wasn't supposed to.

Dad grimaced slightly. "I don't think so, no," he said reluctantly. "That's why I want you to be careful when you're out in the woods. We're not sure what happened to these two: whether they got into a fight with each other or whether they encountered someone else. Until we know for sure, I want you to take someone with you when you go into the woods. I know I can't keep you inside until the investigation is over, but promise me you'll ask Scott with you or Derek or hell even Theo. Just – don't go in there alone, Stiles."

"I promise, dad," Stiles said quietly. He'd love to investigate the place where the bodies had been found, but he also knew when to push his dad and this wasn't one of those times. If dad found out he'd gone behind his back, he'd get far more than just a scolding.

Given that they only had a couple of months together anymore before Stiles would move into a dorm he'd rather not piss off his dad by disobeying him. Especially not when his dad feared that there was a murderer out there.

Not that Stiles hadn't snuffled around murder sites before, but there was something about this case that obviously had his dad on edge – something that didn't happen often even during other murder cases. A case that had the sheriff this tense was one to be cautious with.

Until Stiles could find more information about it, he guessed he would resign himself to having someone join his running sessions. If only because he didn't want to be the reason his dad's stress levels went through the roof.

* * *

When he left the precinct an hour later he nearly walked straight into Laura Hale.

"Oh hey, Stiles. Came to visit your dad?" she smiled, stuffing her car keys in the pocket of her jeans. She was dressed rather casually in ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with the logo of some obscure band on it. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she had some eyeliner on.

"Yeah, dropping off dinner to make sure he doesn't stuff himself full with burgers instead," Stiles replied and eyed the manila folder in her hand curiously. "What are you doing here?"

She winked at him. "Just paying the police a visit on behalf of my mother," which honestly didn't really answer the question.

Before he could question the contents of the folder, she continued, "You're finished with exams after Friday, right?"

"Er, yeah, I'll finally be free then. Cora will be finished then too?" he asked, recalling that he'd seen the youngest Hale sibling zipping through the hallways a couple of times these past few weeks. She'd nodded at him in greeting, but both being busy with their exams, they hadn't exactly stopped to chat with each other.

"Yeah, she's got her last exam tomorrow," Laura replied, waving at one of the deputies when he passed them. "Actually I'm glad I'm seeing you now – we're having a barbecue this weekend, you and your dad are invited."

"I'd love to come; any specific reason for the barbecue?"

She shrugged. "No real reason; guess you could say it's to celebrate the end of the school year or more accurately celebrate not hearing Cora's whining anymore," she grinned before nodding at the entrance of the station. "Sorry, Stiles, got to go now. I'll see you this weekend?"

"Yep, I'll be there," Stiles grinned. "My dad too if he can make it."

"That's great! Good luck with your last exam!"

Watching her hurry into the station he couldn't help but wonder whether the content of that folder had anything to do with the case his dad was currently working on. The Hale house was right smack in the middle of the Preserve after all …

* * *

"Say, I've been wondering about something for a while now."

Theo's voice had Stiles resurfacing from Macbeth and he blinked, shaking his head to dispel the daze he'd fallen under. With one evening left until their final exam, this was his last study session. He was alone with Theo this time, Scott still studying – or panicking, either one was possible – with Kira and Lydia having opted to stay home.

With only the two of them they had moved to Stiles' room to study there. Stiles had claimed his desk while Theo had settled down cross legged on the floor against the bed, his stuff spread out in front of him.

"Yeah, about what?"

Theo glanced up and an uncharacteristically uncertain look crossed his face. "It's rather personal," he cautioned, tapping his pen against his knee. "I don't want to offend you or so."

"Like I've never asked an offensive question," Stiles snorted, spreading his hands in the air. "Shoot. What do you want to ask?"

"Er, well, I've been wondering – how, you know, how do you handle your heat during exams?" Theo asked haltingly; his cheeks gaining a slight flush and he immediately looked down embarrassed. "I know it's none of my business, but we've been hanging out for nearly a month and well, Omega get their heat every month, no? So, er, how do you deal with that?"

Taken aback, Stiles gaped at him and that only made Theo redden more. "Sorry, forget what I asked, that was way out of line, I know," he muttered, wincing.

"No, no, er, it's fine, you just took me by surprise," Stiles said, using his foot to swivel back and forth in his chair. "We get heats every month, yeah, but I've been taking medicine to supress that."

At Theo's surprised look, he rolled his shoulders and huffed. "They're a pain in the arse to deal with every month, all right? I don't fancy being out of commission for at least two to three days every month, so I just take medicine to stop my heat. Sometimes during the summer I skip the medicine so that my body doesn't become too unbalanced, but the rest of the year it's back to the pills."

"Huh, well, that explains it," Theo muttered, looking enlightened.

"Glad I could help you out, buddy," Stiles grinned and turned back to his book, hearing the rustling of pages behind him as Theo went back to his own notes as well.

Just one more evening and then he could finally start on his own little investigation. He'd promised dad he wouldn't sniff around, but he didn't have to know about his little computer research.

What dad didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

* * *

 **AN2: So yes, consider this the end of the set up for the story. From here on, it's going to grow darker so please pay attention to the warnings.**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: Yay, finished a chapter on time! A miracle happened *coughs***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: kikij13456; Myxes; yukino76; babyvfan; MusicLover6626; Little Faustus**

 **Warnings: for this one mainly talk about dead bodies and related description about injuries; minor time skips**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 7_

The run up to graduation was nothing but one big blur after Stiles handed in his last exam.

There was the barbeque at the Hales, where he kept his father from eating too many burgers and himself doing his best not to stare at Derek too much. He wasn't sure whether he'd succeeded because the look in Laura's eyes was too close to sympathetic pity to be comfortable.

Lydia dragged him on another shopping trip on Monday; her eyes too maniac for him to try to form an excuse not to go. Kira joined them, however, so the torture wasn't too bad – mainly because Lydia focused on getting the right dress for the afterparty for Kira, leaving Stiles to wander behind them, trying not to catch Lydia's attention too much.

On Tuesday he and Scott met up to play games for the entire day, gorging themselves on snacks, pizza and soda. It felt good to play games again, hear Scott complaining every time he destroyed his character. It allowed him not to think of the fact that in a couple of months, days like this one would hardly happen once they started attending their respective colleges.

Scott would study to become a veterinarian, having been accepted in a college nearby, while Stiles was still trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life. Following in dad's footsteps would be awesome, especially because he loved solving cases – and might have stolen files from his dad before just to take a look at them – but doing something with literature might be interesting too, considering he loved to read. Or hell, maybe a journalist even, sating his curiosity about things happening in the world.

He'd been accepted to various high ranked universities and colleges, so at least he could choose where to go. Still, the nearest academic institution was a four hour drive; not that terribly far, but not exactly close either.

It would be weird not to see his dad or his friends on a daily basis anymore.

Surprisingly he didn't see Theo during the week following their exams. He'd expected the Alpha to take advantage of the free time to take him on a date, but Theo had apologised through a text, stating he was visiting family in another state and wouldn't be back until two days before graduation.

With Scott visiting his dad and Lydia planning the huge party she was going to throw after graduation, that left Stiles with not much else to do to pass the time. He could, he supposed, visit the Hales, but he wasn't that masochistic. Seeing and talking to Derek, but not being able to _be with him_ in the way they both wanted, would only leave the both of them frustrated.

So, he did what he always ended up doing when he was bored and had nobody to distract him: he went snuffling through the police files.

* * *

A third body had been found two days ago.

Biting on the nail of his thumb, his eyes flicked back and forth as he read the report online, scrolling through the less interesting bits, lingering on others.

The reports of the pathologist of the first two victims had been added to the file and he decided to read those first before tackling the description of the third one. The first two victims had been found rather deep into the woods. The first one, a young woman, had looked like she'd been mauled to death apparently. The pathologist had recorded several deep gouges along her chest and back and her throat had been savagely ripped open as if an animal had set his teeth in her throat and bit straight through.

Unsurprisingly the throat injury had led to a severe blood loss, resulting in her death.

A few feet away from her the second victim had been found, a middle aged man. He'd received one stab to the heart with such a precision that death had been instant. His time of death was recorded as being at least two days after the woman, which of course raised the question how much of a coincidence it could be that his body had been found close to hers.

Even more curious the third victim had been found near the same place – except that this one, a thirty year old guy, had been buried alive. The only reason why the police had found him was because they had returned to the scene of the crime with two dogs in an attempt to uncover more evidence.

Instead of additional evidence, they had found a third body.

Leaning back in his chair, Stiles stared at the screen with a frown. His dad had dealt with some odd cases before, but this one definitely took the cake. There was seemingly no link between the three victims. The woman, one Elisabeth Crown, had only just graduated, holding a college degree in chemistry. The middle aged man, Jonathan Green, had been working for a bank and the younger guy, Marc Franklin, had just started working in a bookstore a few towns over.

The victims' paths had never crossed before their untimely deaths and the way they had died wasn't similar in the slightest either. One mauled by some kind of animal – or more likely, by a person who'd Shifted - the other stabbed and another one buried alive.

Yet all three of them had been found in the same place, which couldn't be a coincidence. Could it? Could it be possible that three different murderers had decided to dump their victims in the same spot, deep in the woods of Beacon Hills?

That would have to be one hell of a coincidence and Stiles wasn't very inclined to believe that. So one serial killer who apparently liked to be creative in the way he or she killed people? Or were the different methods an attempt to throw the police off their trail?

Maybe the woman was just a coincidence and had been mauled by a regular animal? No, he didn't think so. Animals that were big or strong enough to take down a human didn't live near these parts, so that only left someone who'd Shifted in their animal form for some reason to kill the poor girl.

What could the motive be, though? What was so special about these three people that they'd fallen victim to this killer? And why specifically choose that spot in the woods to dump the bodies? Was there something special about it?

"So freaking weird," he muttered, scrolling further down in the document. No wonder dad was so on edge and wanted him to stay out of the forest. It looked like some kind of psycho was offing people one by one and using the woods as his personal dumping ground.

When he arrived at the pictures, he sat up straight, more alert now. He thought he recognised that place in the preserve. He and his mother had often went there to pluck flowers and have their own personal picknicks. The preserve as a whole was a place he loved to visit, but that particular spot had always had a special place in his heart for some reason. He'd always attributed it to the fact that his mother had loved going there, but …

What if it was special for other reasons too? There had to be a reason why the killer had dumped his victims there, right? It was rather deep into the woods and there were easier places to dump bodies than there.

Peering at the pictures, he wondered if maybe he was mistaken and the crime scene was in a completely different spot in the preserve. But no, there was that thick tree stump in the middle of one of the photos; the one his mother had loved sleeping against.

So what was the deal about that place? Just pure coincidence or more?

Shooting a quick look at the digital clock of his laptop, he pursed his lips, tapping a pencil rapidly against the edge of his desk. He still had a couple of hours left before dad's shift would end; long enough to make a short trip to check something out.

He _had_ promised dad he would stay out of this case, though … But surely a quick look around the preserve wouldn't hurt? Dad hadn't explicitly forbidden him from setting foot in the forest after all – just that he had to be very careful and preferably with someone else to accompany him.

Never let it be said that Stiles couldn't find loopholes in everything. One would think the Sheriff would know better by now when trying to forbid his only son from doing something.

Seriously, though: what harm could a quick look around do? He would just quickly check whether something had changed about the place since he'd last visited it with his mother.

Something that might be attractive enough for a possible serial killer to make it their burial ground.

* * *

The sun was beating down harshly when he stepped out of his car, gravel crunching underneath his sneakers. Looking around he spotted a couple of other vehicles, but no actual police cars, so at least he wouldn't be caught by one of his dad's deputies.

He set a brisk pace, keeping a wary eye on the ground so that he wouldn't trip over one of the many roots protruding from the earth. He loved the woods, but those tree roots were treacherous and an utter menace to someone whose balance was passable at best on a good day. For a moment he considered Shifting, but he didn't want to have to search a spot to hide his clothes. He also knew himself very well; if he Shifted, he'd most likely get distracted and then this trip would end up being way longer than it needed to be and then his dad would probably find out and yeah.

Dad not finding out about his impromptu trip to the Preserve was of utmost importance.

In spite of not having been there for years on end – the memories of Claudia having been too painful to face for a very long time – he instinctively still knew which path to take and which brook to cross. He didn't encounter anyone else, though sometimes his ears picked up the sounds of people laughing; the noise carried over to him by a soft breeze which occasionally rustled the leaves and provided some cooling on this hot summer's day.

As he neared the place with that particular tree stump, he had to pause a couple of times, swallowing back tears when he remembered all the times he and his mother had raced each other to the tree, the winner getting to demolish all the berries they'd plucked. This particular spot had been something of just the two of them, a private place no one else seemed to know about.

To realise that someone – some psycho killer – was using it as their own personal graveyard …

It made him feel sick.

When he finally neared the edge of the field, he halted and rested a hand on the nearest tree trunk. Surveying his surroundings carefully, he inhaled deeply and was immediately hit by the familiar scents of fresh grass, wild flowers and that one particular essence he had never been able to name. Something which seemed to be a combination of various scents and yet smelt like it was completely unique at the same time.

A certain kind of perfume which had always driven the younger version of him wild, curling into his nostrils, filling his head until it seemed as if he could only smell that particular scent.

Now it wasn't anything different. The scent appeared to have grown stronger even, permeating the air, making it a tad harder to breathe. How had those deputies been able to stand that smell? Especially when combined with the bad odours of decomposing bodies.

Grimacing at his own thoughts, he cautiously took a couple of steps forwards. The grass had been flattened in several places, trampled underneath the police's – and killer's – shoes. The tree stump – the one he and his mother had spent so much time around – stood still proudly in the middle of the field. Or well, as proudly as a stump could stand anyway. It managed to look regal either way, as if it was still the large, broad tree it had once been – according to Claudia anyway.

A large patch of grass around six feet away from the tree was gone, showing uprooted earth. That must have been the place where the third victim had been buried alive. The other two bodies had been found near the tree as well, but aside from some left over dried blood, there was nothing to indicate the victims had been dumped here.

The stench of death was hard to ignore, though, and he wrinkled his nose, breathing through his mouth while he slowly walked around the stump, studying the ground carefully. What was so special about this place that the killer had dumped three bodies here? It was rather deeply located in the woods, that was true, but it wasn't as if nobody ever came here either. The killer would have had more luck staying undetected if he'd gone more north, where the terrain was so rough and uneven barely anybody went there for a walk.

Stopping next to the stump, he rubbed his bare arms absently and pressed his lips together. The air felt strangely charged and heavy and he wondered whether a storm was approaching. The weather report hadn't mentioned anything of that sort, but well, the weather in Beacon Hills could be rather unpredictable at times.

Tapping his foot lightly against a visible root of the stump, he heaved a sigh and stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Well, this had been a complete bust. He couldn't see anything that might make of this place the ideal burial ground. It was just a tree stump surrounded by wild flowers and grass; he'd seen better dumping places used in tv shows and movies.

His ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps too late.

"Stiles, what are you doing here?"

He whirled around so quickly, he tripped over his own feet and fell backwards, waving his arms around wildly before he fell down hard on the stump with a shout. "OH FUCK! That hurt!" he moaned, dead twigs stabbing his butt. He practically threw himself forwards; his butt aching from the impact on the dead tree.

Wincing and rubbing a hand over the aching parts he looked up and saw Laura standing a couple of feet away from him, sporting an unimpressed look.

Crossing her arms, she repeated, "What are you doing here?"

Her hair was done up in a high ponytail and she wore white shorts and a yellow tube top; her skin already glowing with a healthy tan. Damn those Hales for being able to tan so perfectly. If Stiles would tan, he'd end up looking like a cooked lobster.

"Just walking around," he answered evasively, straightening up.

"Here?" she said sceptically; her eyes flicking around the field.

"Yeah, my mom and I – we used to visit this field a lot," he said, hoping she would leave it at that. He really hated pulling the dead mom card, but the last thing he needed was for Laura to grow suspicious and alert his dad to his little outing.

At the mention of his mother, her face softened and she sighed softly, resting her hands on her hips. "I get it," she said sympathetically. "But Stiles, it's better if you don't come around this place for a while, okay? I'm sure you've smelt the scent of death too." She looked at him pointedly, letting him know she wasn't fooled after all.

"Sorry," he said chagrined, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can you please not tell my dad about this? He doesn't want me to go alone in the Preserve now."

"No, that doesn't seem like a good idea to me either," she said calmly. "I'm letting you off the hook for this once, Stiles, but if I catch you here a second time, I'll march you straight to the Sheriff's station myself, are we clear?"

"Crystal!" he agreed hastily, sighing in relief. He knew he was lucky Laura had found him and not Talia or her husband – they wouldn't have had any qualms about telling his dad about his trip here.

Narrowing her eyes, she clucked her tongue. "I mean it, though. The Preserve isn't a safe place for now. Not until the killer is caught. Don't make me regret leaving you off the hook, mister."

"I won't," he vowed, before trying his luck a second time, "Do you know whether they have any suspects?"

"No, haven't heard anything about that," she said, crossing the small distance between them.

"And even if you did, you wouldn't tell me," he guessed disappointed, scowling when she smirked and flicked his ear.

"Got that right. Now come on, I'll walk you to your jeep."

The walk back was silent, Stiles not knowing what to say after having been caught and Laura seemingly too intent on scanning their surroundings to make small talk. It made him question just how bad this case was if it even set Laura on edge.

She finally looked at him when they reached his beloved jeep and waited until he'd got behind the wheel to speak again. Leaning in the window, she said, "I'll see you around, Stiles – although preferably not in the Preserve," she added with a meaningful look.

"Yeah, all right," he grunted. "Not like there was anything interesting to see anyway."

She snorted and lightly pinched his arm before turning around. Before she could walk back, he called out to her.

"Hey, Laura! Tell your siblings I said hi!"

Her laugh was bright and clear, filling the warm summer air and it was so infectious it made him grin.

"Yeah, okay, I'll pass the message on to my siblings." She winked and waved, before disappearing into the trees again.

Shaking his head, still grinning, he started his car and reversed out of the parking spot, joining some other cars on the road.

Only when he was almost home again, did he realise how weird it had been for Laura to find him there. With the field being off limits for the time being, why had she been there?

* * *

"I'm really proud of you, son." Dad hugged him tightly, voice thick and his eyes wet with a sheen of unshed tears. "Your mother would have been so proud too."

"Thanks, dad," Stiles muttered, clasping his arms around the older man and hugging him back just as tightly. His cap was somewhere behind him and he'd nearly tripped over the long robes he'd been forced to wear, but he couldn't be happier now.

 _He had finally graduated_. From now on he would no longer suffer the torment of high school and teachers who were out to get him – _cough, Harris, cough_. He was as free as a bird – until university started, but that wouldn't be for another few months.

"Still think you would have done a better job with the speech than Lydia," Dad grinned and pulled back, wiping his eyes quickly.

"Figured it would be safer for me if I let her have that moment," Stiles chuckled and as if she heard him, Lydia looked up from her mother's embrace a couple of feet away, throwing him a quick smile.

"Congratulations, Stiles," Melissa smiled, pulling him into another hug once she got close enough; Scott following her with a blinding grin of his own. Her eyes were red rimmed and she sniffled slightly. "Can't believe how quickly you two grew up. It seems like it was just yesterday that I found you two playing in the sandbox and Stiles declaring Scott was going to be his best friend forever."

"Aw, Mama McCall, you're going to make us all cry," Stiles joked, but there was a lump in his throat and he had to blink rapidly several times to push back the tears.

"I'm just really proud of you two, okay? I want you to know that," she insisted, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

"We know, ma," Scott grinned and kissed her cheek. His face lit up when he saw something – or most likely someone – over Stiles' shoulder. "There's Kira! Do you mind if I …"

"Go," she snorted and waved him off. "But I expect you back in a moment so we can all go out to eat lunch."

"I'll be back soon!" he promised and then practically rushed past Stiles, eager to get to his girlfriend.

"How about we go wait somewhere where there's shade?" Dad proposed, squinting up at the sky. "I feel like I'm about to sweat right out of my shirt; can't imagine how much worse it has to be for you, son."

"I'm taking off the robe as soon as we're in the car," Stiles grimaced, plucking at the thick, blue cloth. He still didn't understand why the graduation robes couldn't have been made out of a lighter fabric, considering they _graduated in the freaking summer_.

He was only wearing a T-shirt and his jeans underneath it, but with the sun high up in the sky, it was enough to make him feel like he was simmering in his own personal sauna.

"Sounds like a good idea," Melissa agreed and nodded towards the edge of the field where a row of trees formed a natural wall. "We can wait there for a bit. I don't think the tent will do us any good if we wait there."

Stiles didn't think so either; the white tent on the other end of the field looked more ready to bake the people inside than actually offer some shade. Several people were making their way towards it, so even if the sun wouldn't warm up the space considerably, the amount of people inside would do the trick just fine.

"All right, let's go," Dad agreed and they wriggled themselves through the thrum of other parents hugging their children and teachers congratulating their now ex-students.

"Stiles!"

His name being called had Stiles halting and turning around, squinting when the glare of the sun hit him right in his face. Theo was hurrying towards him, his cap clenched in his left hand.

Dad briefly touched his shoulder. "We'll wait for you there," he said and walked away with Melissa before Theo had reached him.

He threw a brief scowl at the retreating back of his dad before he turned back around, offering the other guy a grin. "Hey Theo, congrats on graduating, man."

"Yeah, you too," Theo smiled. "I was so sure you'd be up there giving the speech, though."

Stiles shrugged, a bit bashful. "Lydia's better suited for things like that," he said. Between the two of them, Lydia definitely excelled in writing speeches that managed to touch both students, teachers and parents. Left up to Stiles, he'd probably started rambling about something completely unrelated midway through his speech. For the sanity of everyone involved, it had been better if Lydia gave the speech.

"Too bad, would have loved to hear what kind of speech you would have come up with," the Alpha grinned.

"One filled with too many different subjects," Stiles smiled wryly. "Trust me, you were all better off listening to Lydia."

"Well, we'll never know for sure," Theo chuckled before clearing his throat. Something akin to a bashful look crossed over his face and he licked his lips before asking hesitatingly, "I was thinking … Maybe I could take you out tomorrow? Like, er, on a date?"

The idea of having an actual date with Theo had Stiles' stomach flipping in an uncomfortable way, but he plastered a smile on his face and nodded. "Sure, sounds good."

The words tasted like ash in his mouth, even with Theo beaming and his eyes gleaming with joy. The last thing he wanted now was a date with the Alpha, but he had to at least pretend to make an effort.

Besides, maybe the date wouldn't be that awful. At worst it might be something lame Theo had planned, but well, it wasn't like he'd never done something lame before.

No way was he going to kiss Theo, though. Too bad for the dude, but amazing date or not, these lips of his were reserved for one person only and that wasn't the Alpha standing in front of him.

* * *

 **AN2: I don't know much about how the education system in the USA works, so I'm basically taking some artistic liberty with some of these elements *coughs***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: Longer chapter than usual, but I'm just going to assume that you won't mind that too much :P Not sure whether you should get used to a length like this, but we'll see I guess *hums***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: out of control with OC's; Almondweb; yukino76; babyvfan; Myxes**

 **Warnings: Another description of a dead body; small time skips and ATTENTION: at the end of this chapter while it is very much implied (like nothing described at all), the end scene refers dubious consent (in the sense that Stiles can't remember anything at all because he was so out of it). I tag it as dubious consent because that's the closest warning I can come up with for this particular scene. So just be aware.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 8_

Stiles was loathe to admit it, but Theo was actually very good at coming up with amazing date ideas. It seemed he'd paid quite some attention to the stuff in Stiles' room, deducing his interests correctly from that observation, because he first took Stiles to the movies, to watch Deadpool 2. A mercenary with a big mouth and very dubious morals? Yeah, Stiles was sold.

They'd got tickets to the earliest screening so afterwards Theo took him to play paintball for two hours where Stiles somehow managed to not trip or flail too much and they actually won the game. Yeah, Stiles was quite surprised about that.

Dinner, though, proved that Theo was actually serious about his courting and that he was trying his best to win Stiles over: _curly fries with a hamburger_.

Now Stiles was a strong man, all right, really strong, but everyone had a weakness and god if he wasn't utterly weak for those delicious golden curly fries, sent straight down from heaven. He couldn't stop a low moan from escaping him when he shoved a handful of them in his mouth, uncaring how that would make him look. _Curly fries, man_.

"The food good?" Theo asked amused, supporting his chin on his hand. He'd chosen a cheeseburger with curly fries as well, although his serving of fries was somewhat smaller than Stiles'.

"Good? It's amazing!" Stiles exclaimed, heedless of the foul look an elderly woman seated at a nearby table threw at him. "You're really going for all my weak points, huh? Superhero movie, paintball, now curly fries – pulling out the big guns, I see."

The Alpha shrugged and smiled. "I figured I need to pull out all the big guns if I want to have a shot at winning your heart," he said lightly. "I'm going up against Hale, after all. Not an easy competitor." His chuckle was a bit self-deprecating and he rubbed his hand across his mouth.

Stiles paused, lowering his hamburger slightly. "You do know Derek isn't courting me, right?" he said carefully. For some reason the thought that Theo thought he was actively competing against Derek didn't sit well with him. Especially because it wasn't true. Well, not in the literal sense at least.

It wasn't like Derek could court him at the same time Theo could. His life would be so much easier if that actually had been possible, because at least then he could have spent time with Derek however he wanted to, including being near each other instead of being forced to keep some distance like they had to now. Not to mention he would have been able to put a stop to this farce a lot sooner instead of having to sit out a full six months with Theo.

Theo wasn't a bad guy, really. Clearly he was thoughtful, given how much effort he'd put into this date, and he was friendly and with time Stiles thought he could come to like him as a good friend. But in the end that was all Theo could ever be to him: a good friend. He didn't feel any click with him whatsoever, no butterflies like the ones he'd felt when he first laid eye on Lydia – before he realised they were better off as friends – no spark between them like he'd experienced with Derek.

There was just nothing with Theo and while he felt bad for the guy, it wasn't like he could help how he felt. Theo could pull out all kinds of big guns as much as he wanted, Stiles had already made his decision and that didn't include the Alpha sitting in front of him.

He guessed Theo was right in the sense that Derek wasn't an easy competitor – except the end result of the match had already been decided and that was something Theo seemed to have not realised yet.

 _Or maybe he's just in denial_ , Stiles thought when Theo pressed his lips together for a moment before shaking his head quickly.

"Oh, I know he's not officially," he replied airily. "But I'm not stupid or naïve either. I know I'm not exactly your first choice."

Stiles kept quiet, not knowing how to respond to that. They both knew it was true, though.

Theo's smile turned wry and he raised his glass in the air. "I just ask that you give me a proper chance for the next four and a half months. Maybe I can surprise you after all."

"If I wasn't planning on giving you a proper chance, I wouldn't have agreed to this date, would I?" Stiles retorted and quirked an eyebrow. To lighten the atmosphere again, he added casually, "Just so you know, though, you made a good call with the curly fries. No one can resist the call of curly fries."

The grin spreading across Theo's face was wide and genuine and he looked pleased when he drank from his coke. "Thanks, I try my best."

* * *

Things turned a bit awkward when they stopped in front of Stiles' house an hour later. Dusk was only just settling in, the sun still painting the sky orange and rose and purple, and the scent of barbeque drifted into the open windows of the car, together with the noise of people chattering and laughing. Someone was holding a barbeque further down the street.

There were some kids riding their bikes through the street, egging each other one as they raced and two cats – ones belonging to Mrs. Smithson if Stiles remembered correctly – were soaking up the last sunrays on a windowsill, looking like one big blob of black and white against the window.

Removing his seatbelt, Stiles cleared his throat. "So, er, thanks for today. I had a lot of fun."

Theo smiled, relaxing his grip on the steering wheel. "I'm glad to hear that. I was worried you would be bored."

"Definitely not bored," Stiles reassured him and reached out to open the door. "Well, I guess I'll see you soon again? You've got my number so …" he trailed off with an awkward chuckle, feeling suddenly uncomfortably warm in the car.

"Stiles."

The mention of his name had him turning around again, just in time to see Theo leaning towards him. In a flash he understood what the other one was planning and he turned his face away slightly, causing Theo to miss his lips and brush his cheek instead.

A baffled look appeared on the Alpha's face when he pulled back startled and Stiles smirked, waggling his finger. "I don't kiss on the first date," he told him loftily.

Theo smiled crookedly, leaning back in his chair. "How many dates does it take then?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Stiles was out of the car before Theo could say something else and made his way to the front door. He waved when Theo started the car again and opened the door when he drove off.

"Stiles?"

"Dad, yeah, I'm back." He kicked off his shoes and padded into the kitchen, relishing the coolness provided by the fan on the kitchen counter. It wasn't a big fan, but it did what it had to do. "Don't you have a night shift?"

"Yeah, I'll be leaving in a bit," Dad confirmed, closing the fridge and handing a soda can to his son. "How was your date?"

Stiles shrugged and dropped down on the chair, opening the can with a loud ' _psssht_ '. "It was fun. We saw Deadpool 2, then went paintballing and we got curly fries just now."

"Curly fries, huh?" Dad blinked, draining his own can. "Wow, he's trying his best it seems."

Stiles offered him a wry smile. "At least I can't claim he's not trying his hardest, right?" He sighed and pursed his lips. "Would have been easier if he was just a jerk about this, though."

"While I do get what you mean, I'm glad he isn't a jerk. I'd be hard pressed to follow those backwards rules if he was behaving out of line towards you," Dad muttered, a dark look crossing his face for a moment.

"Yeah, but at least then I would have been able to put a stop to this quicker," Stiles pointed out petulantly.

"I know, son." Dad walked past the table and clasped his shoulder. "Just four and a half months still left to go. And the last part of that you'll be at college anyway, so you won't have to put up with him for too long."

The younger man perked up. "That's right! Means I only got around two and a half months left," he realised pleased. He could do that. Just get through the summer and then he'd be away at college and he could count down the days until he could return to Beacon Hills to inform the Council he wasn't interested in Theo.

"Exactly." Dad patted his shoulder before jerking his thumb backwards over his shoulder, pointing at something on the kitchen counter. "By the way, a blonde girl was here for you this afternoon. Erica? I believe that's her name. I think I've seen her with the Hales before."

"Erica? What was she doing here?" Stiles asked surprised, abandoning his soda in favour of checking out whatever was waiting for him next to the coffee machine. It turned out to be a small piece of paper with two series of numbers written down in a neat handwriting.

"Said she'd forgotten to give you her number and that of Boyd's and that you should text her soon to meet up," Dad answered lightly.

That particular tone had Stiles looking up from the scrap of paper. "What?" Whenever dad used that particular tone, he actually wanted to ask something else.

"Nothing, just that she doesn't seem the – type you would hang out with," Dad commented carefully, leaning back against the table.

A sharp bark of laughter escaped the Omega as he imagined the outfit Erica must have been dressed in when she popped by. No doubt she'd been wearing something very tight and toeing the line of too revealing, wearing bright red lipstick and high heels. No, he supposed she didn't really seem the type to hang out with him.

"She and Boyd are friends with Derek and we kind of started talking to each other a while ago," Stiles said and shrugged, plucking his phone out of his pocket to add the numbers to his contact list. "They're quite cool. Erica's more bark than bite anyway."

"Well, I guess hanging out with Lydia prepared you for that," Dad said amused, chuckling when his son stuck out his tongue. A quick glance at his watch had the sheriff grimacing slightly and he shook his head, straightening up. "All right, I have to go now. If you're planning on still going out somewhere, send me a text, okay?"

"You still haven't caught the ones who killed those people in the Preserve?" Stiles inquired, stuffing his phone back into his right pocket. He knew the answer, of course, given that he was keeping an eye on the files, but his dad didn't know that.

Dad's eyebrows pulled together and he rubbed over his eyes. "No, we haven't yet, so be careful when you go out."

"I promise, you be careful too."

"Always," Dad promised and after squeezing Stiles' shoulder, he left the kitchen, probably to get his holster, gun and his badge. "I'll see you in the morning, Stiles!"

"Yeah, tell Jordan I said hi!"

The door falling shut announced dad's departure and not even a minute later, the cruiser drove away, leaving Stiles standing alone in a slowly darkening kitchen. Checking the kitchen door to make sure it was locked – he might snoop around in the police files, but he wasn't stupid enough to leave the door to the garden unlocked – he snatched up his soda from the table and locked the front door as well before making his way upstairs. He might as well surf a bit on the internet still before going to sleep.

His phone buzzed with a new message. Scott: ' _And, how was the date?_ '

With a groan, he started composing his answer, hoping that would be the last time he'd have to answer that particular question.

* * *

"So how weirded out was your dad that I showed up?" Erica smirked; her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. She wore an emerald green bikini and her blonde hair was nearly blinding in the sunlight.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles replied, "He told me you didn't seem like the type I'd hang out with."

"Rude," she huffed and waved a hand over her body. "Please, who wouldn't want to hang out with me?"

"If you were dressed like you usually do, I'm not surprised my dad thought that," he retorted amused, snickering when she smacked his leg.

"No insulting my girlfriend," Boyd said calmly, dropping down on the empty towel next to Erica. Isaac had stopped swimming in the lake and was just drifting aimlessly now.

"Hey, I never said I had a problem with it. Erica looks cool in whatever she wears," Stiles said, pulling a chilled bottle of water out of the cooler. "Dad's just not used to having girls clad in leather show up at our front door."

"I was told that crashing your date would be inappropriate just to leave our numbers, so I decided to stop by your house," she said and pressed her lips together, still sounding unhappy at the thought of Stiles having gone on a date with Theo.

The Omega couldn't say he didn't share her sentiment, but he couldn't exactly refuse and Theo had been pretty cool overall during the date, so he couldn't complain too much.

"Told by whom?" he asked amused, wondering who had managed to actually convince Erica not to go through with an idea she had. She was even more stubborn at times than Stiles himself, and that was saying something.

"Peter." She scowled. "Still haven't decided whether he was being thoughtful or just trying to get a rise out of Derek."

"Probably both," Boyd murmured. "He's having quite some fun with this situation between you and Derek."

"Well, as long as the bastard has his fun," Stiles sighed, not having expected anything different from the older werewolf. Peter was Peter and he wasn't going to change his habit of antagonising people just because one of them was his own nephew. As a matter of fact, he might even enjoy getting a rise out of Derek more, specifically because he was his nephew. The guy was twisted like that.

"So anyway, whenever you want an excuse not to hang out with Theo – or just an excuse not to be alone with him – you can call us," Erica suggested, smiling when Boyd handed her a can of soda. "Thanks, babe."

"Scott is still an option too," Stiles couldn't help but point out, sitting cross legged on his own blanket. There was already sand strewn across the light blue fabric, making him wonder why he even bothered with it anymore. He'd probably be digging sand out of places it shouldn't be in for days after this.

She snorted and tossed her hair back. "No offense, Stiles, but when it comes to being an actual determent, I think we'll be more of use to you than Scott. We're not likely to be distracted by our mate," she smiled sharply.

And – that was fair, he admitted begrudgingly. He loved Scott like a brother, but god knew he was quick to get distracted when it came to Kira. It was just how he was and Stiles couldn't be mad about it. If his best friend was happy, he was happy, end of story.

When it came to forming a barrier between him and Theo, though, Erica, Boyd and Isaac were probably the better choice. They – especially Erica – seemed almost as annoyed as Stiles was with this arrangement. Maybe it was because Derek was their friend and they were forming a pack of their own, causing them to act like this because Derek wasn't happy with this situation either; he didn't ask.

"Either way," she leant across and draped her arm briefly across his shoulders, "we're only one call away, Batman."

Smiling at the nickname – she must have seen the comics in his room when she'd been there before to play videogames – he squeezed her fingers softly. "Thanks, Catwoman."

She winked and her grin was a bright flash against the summer's sky.

* * *

Throughout the days that followed, Theo took him out on a couple of more dates. He took the Omega to the comic book store, which was quite obviously a win, an amusement park two towns further where Stiles discovered that no, hotdogs and quick rides weren't a good combination and a trip to the lake, this time also inviting Stiles' friends – including Erica, Boyd and Isaac to Stiles' surprise. Erica was having a lot of fun scent marking him that day – he wasn't oblivious nor stupid, the amount of hugs she bestowed on him and the ways she kept touching him one way or the other, even going as far as pushing him into the lake, could be considered nothing less than scent marking at this point.

He'd been slightly worried that would make Theo pissed off – especially because Stiles could smell Derek on the three – but the Alpha remained remarkably calm. He definitely was doing his best to make a good impression on Stiles.

Hell, he even played videogames with him, even though it was clear that he wasn't exactly an expert in it. If Stiles wasn't in love with Derek – and yeah, he could admit that to himself, even if it felt a bit weird to use the words 'in love', but 'like' sounded way too juvenile and not fitting for what he felt for the Beta – he might actually be inclined to start liking Theo.

However, Theo could put as much effort into his 'wooing' as he wanted, Stiles' heart was firmly set on one person and that wasn't the Alpha.

Still, he had to give him points for trying at least.

* * *

' _Thinking of having a picnic with Kira. You in? Maybe with Theo or so?'_

Humming, Stiles texted his reply rapidly; a part of his attention still on his laptop, which displayed an article about a possible dragon sighting in north east China. ' _Yeah sure, I'll ask him.'_

' _Cool! Got to go now, mom's calling me'_

Probably for the, Stiles checked the digital clock on his screen, monthly movie night. Melissa insisted on having a movie night with her son only, starting a few years ago when she became busier at the hospital and Scott became busier with school and working at Deaton's vet practice. So Melissa had decided that once a month when both their schedules allowed it, they would set aside an evening for the two of them only, watching movies and catching up on things that had happened to them.

Stiles and his dad occasionally did that too, but the sheriff's job and odd hours at times made it difficult to actually make such evenings a tradition.

Throwing his phone next to him on the bed, knowing he wouldn't hear from Scott anymore for the rest of the evening, he went back to reading the article, trying to figure out whether the witnesses had been bullshitting or not. A dragon seemed rather surreal, but they could turn into animals themselves, so who knew what else was out there, hidden in the world?

A knock on the door startled him. "Yeah?"

Dad opened the door, dressed in his uniform again and holding one hand on his gun. "Just got a call, so I'm heading out."

"Is the call interesting?"

Dad ignored him, _rude_ , and went on, "Don't stay up too late. I know it's summer, but that doesn't mean you need to be up until three in the morning."

"I won't," Stiles said, saluting the older man lazily.

Dad eyed him, but nodded. "I'll see you in the morning, son."

Stiles waited until he heard the door of the cruiser slamming shut and the motor starting, before he jumped out of his bed and dug out the police radio scanner he'd swiped from the station a few years ago. As far as he knew, nobody had realised they were missing one; he used it occasionally, during nights when crime was higher than usual and he needed something to reassure himself that his dad would be fine.

Now it would be a good way to find out what kind of call had his dad going out so late when his shift had ended two hours ago.

There was some static on the scanner, but Stiles could clearly hear a female voice stating, _"One eight seven. All available units to the Preserve."_

He might not know all the codes yet – dad refused to share them with him, even though he must know that Stiles had already picked up the meaning of several of them – but this one he definitely knew the meaning of: the code one hundred eighty seven stood for _murder_.

 _Another body had been found in the Preserve._

* * *

He was playing with fire now, he realised. If dad found out he'd sneaked out of the house to check out a crime scene – a murder scene – he'd be majorly pissed off and Stiles would be grounded until he went to college – and possibly even beyond that.

So yeah, he really shouldn't be here right now, but his morbid curiosity had reared its ugly head and wouldn't leave him alone until he'd given in. It might not be anything special, not connected to the other murders, but his gut feeling told him otherwise.

A fourth body in the Preserve? Yeah, the chances of that being just a coincidence were very low.

Crouching, he slowly crept forward, making sure not to make a sound. That wasn't so hard, given that he'd shed his human skin and was lurking about in his fox form. His Jeep made a too distinctive noise and the front of the woods were crawling with police officers, so if he wanted to catch a glimpse of the scene, he had to do so Shifted.

He hadn't even needed his nose to guide him to the place of the crime scene; from the moment he'd heard 'Preserve' through the scanner, he knew the body could only have been found in one spot: the clearing with the dead tree where he and Claudia had spent so many afternoons.

His instinct had been correct. Scuttling between two bushes, he felt sick when the nauseating, sick smell of burnt flesh smacked him right in the face. Whoever the victim was – and it was hard to tell whether they'd been female or male, given their appearance now – they'd been burnt alive, their skin black charred and still smocking, discarded a few feet to the right of the tree. A man in a white coat was kneeling next to the body, examining it with a heavy frown on his face.

It took everything in him not to retch right there and then. How could anyone do this to another person? Just set them on fire, leaving them to die a horrible death? How could anyone be this sick, this deranged?

The place crawled with police officers, his dad standing furthest away from his hiding place discussing something with Parrish, while other deputies went around, collecting evidence, trying to find any clues the killer might have left behind. Their faces were grim, some looking pale in the bright lights installed around the perimeter, and a couple of them looked away every time they came near the victim. Stiles couldn't blame them; it was a gruesome sight.

Forcing his eyes away from the body, he looked around the clearing, and started when he spotted Talia Hale near his dad. She had her arms crossed, still dressed in a smart suit, and her face was hard, but her eyes showed clearly that she was upset. Next to her, for some reason, Deaton stood, watching the scene with a sad look on his face. Why was he here? Talia, Stiles could understand somewhat, given that the Hale house was nearby and she'd probably heard the commotion, but why would Deaton be at a crime scene? This was hardly an animal he needed to help.

Something nipped at his tail and he barely held back a bark of surprise, whirling around to confront whatever animal thought they had the right to bite his tail. Hackles starting to rise, he instantly deflated and dropped down to his stomach when he saw the huge hulking form in front of him, multicoloured eyes staring down at him. They flashed yellow and Stiles whined softly, pressing himself further into the earth as if the ground could swallow him up.

The wolf snorted and swiftly bent down, snatching him up by his neck. For a moment Stiles thought about fighting back, because seriously, this was fucking humiliating, he wasn't a damn pup! But then the wolf growled lowly, a warning sound, and Stiles deflated, sulking as the larger animal trotted off with him, carrying him all the way back to his house.

As the wolf was larger, it didn't take him long to cross the woods and break out of the cover of the trees, padding into the backyard of the Stilinskis. Stiles was unceremoniously dumped onto the porch and the wolf snorted again before the sound of bones cracking and muscles stretching filled the night air until the wolf had made place for the man.

A very naked, very muscled man and god damn it, he really couldn't deal with that sight now. That was the damn issue with Shifting – why couldn't they do that with clothes on?! Slapping his paws across his eyes, he tried to ignore the other one right in front of him.

That didn't really work when a finger prodded against his side and Stiles snapped at it reflexively.

Of course he didn't manage to actually bite him and Derek sounded entirely unimpressed when he said, "Stiles, change back now."

The fox grumbled, not really wanting to shift back now. It was one thing to have Derek standing naked in front of him, filling the air with his pure scent and looking rather otherworldly in the pale moonlight, and a completely other thing to be naked too, which would happen if he shifted now.

Damn it, he should have just stayed home instead of letting his curiosity take over common sense.

Derek huffed and sounded exasperated when he pointed a finger at Stiles. "You stay here; I'll be right back. Don't even try to make a run for it."

Stiles was rather tempted, but he knew he wouldn't be a match for Derek, especially not if he shifted back. Besides, the last thing he needed was to accidentally run into his dad or any of the other deputies still wandering across the Preserve.

So he waited, curled up on the porch, while Derek entered the house and walked upstairs. He didn't know what the Beta could possibly want from upstairs, but that was quickly answered when his clothes were thrown right next to him, Derek stepping off the porch. He had a towel wrapped around his hips, hiding his bits – thank god, because this was already going to be embarrassing enough without Stiles humiliating himself when he changed back – and crossed his arms, nodding at the bundle of clothes.

"There, you've got your clothes. Change back, we need to talk," Derek said gruffly and turned around, giving the younger man some privacy.

With great reluctance, Stiles did as he was told and pulled on his clothes as fast as he could. "Derek, I - "

"Why am I not even surprised you were sneaking around at the crime scene?" Derek turned back around, his heavy eyebrows drawn together in a frown. "What the hell were you even doing there?"

"I just – I wanted to know whether this murder is tied to the previous three," Stiles muttered, feeling chastised even when Derek hadn't so much as raised his voice or actually berated him for being there.

"I'm pretty sure your father told you not to stick your nose in this case," Derek pointed out annoyed.

Throwing his hands up, Stiles sighed explosively. "Oh please, as if that would stop me. I wasn't going to do anything, I was just curious."

"Stiles, now's not the time to go behind your father's back," Derek snapped, his eyes flashing. "Do you even realise how dangerous it can be now in the woods, especially when the police doesn't have any clue yet who's behind this? How do you think your dad will feel if you ended up being a victim too, because you were wandering alone around places where you shouldn't be?"

Stiles flinched back, hugging himself tightly. "That's a low blow, Derek," he said through clenched teeth, hating that the other man knew him well enough to be able to use his weak spots against him.

Derek had at least the grace to look contrite. "I – shouldn't have said that, but Stiles, you can't just waltz into the woods now, not with that killer on the loose. He's already killed three people, this victim might be the fourth one – this isn't the time to start playing detective on your own."

Great, now he was starting to feel guilty. "I know, I wasn't trying to either. I just …" he trailed off and the silence between them was heavy, unlike the ones they'd shared before.

Surprisingly Derek was the one to break it. "Just … Stay safe, okay? Don't go wandering around at crime scenes. Let the police deal with this."

"Yeah, all right," Stiles acquiesced, both knowing and hating the fact that Derek was right. This type of case _was_ something he shouldn't mess with, but old habits died hard and it had become almost second nature to him to check dad's cases and see if he couldn't figure out the clues left behind.

Those cases before had mostly handled theft or burglary or the occasional homicide – never an actual serial killer.

Derek nodded, appearing somewhat mollified, and turned around, his hands going to the towel as if he was about to drop it and shift back.

"Why were you even there?" Stiles suddenly blurted out, keeping his eyes averted. "How did you even know I was there? Dad didn't seem to know."

The older man huffed amused and the trace of fondness lacing his voice when he answered made Stiles flush, "It was a crime scene in the Preserve – I had a feeling you would be sneaking around. As for how I found you: I can pick out your scent no matter how many people are around."

As Stiles spluttered, the towel dropped and the large, black wolf stood once more in front of him. Derek darted forwards to press his wet nose against the Omega's hand before bounding off, disappearing into the cover of the trees.

The palm of his hand still seemed to tingle when Stiles finally went to bed an hour later.

* * *

"You're sure you're okay?" Theo threw him a concerned glance before focusing on the road again.

They were driving past the Preserve, back to Stiles' home. The plan had been to go to the park and meet up with Erica and Boyd just to hang out, but Stiles had been feeling off since the moment he woke up and it had only grown worse as the hours went by. His head felt fuzzy, as if stuffed with cotton, and while the warm summer temperature was probably partly to blame, he felt too hot and itchy and it took every last bit of restraint not to divest himself of his clothes right there and then. His stomach was vaguely cramping; not enough to be really painful, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either and he kept his arm pressed against his abdomen, as if that somehow would help push the cramps back.

Erica had taken one look at him before promptly ordering him to go back home and rest there. In other words: he looked like shit enough that it even worried her.

The thing was: his symptoms felt rather similar to the ones he experienced during his heat, but he couldn't be experiencing his heat now. He was still taking his medicine after all, which put a stop to getting a heat until he skipped taking his pills. Maybe a summer bug then? Or summer flu? That was a thing, right?

"Hm, maybe the heat's getting to me," Stiles muttered and rolled his head towards Theo, raising an eyebrow when he noticed the way the other one seemed to be trembling slightly; his hands clenched tightly around his steering wheel. There was an odd flush dusting his cheekbones and his lips were pressed together until they formed one line.

"Are _you_ okay?" he questioned, wondering whether he should call Scott or even Boyd to ask them to take over driving. "You don't look that great."

"Always a flatterer, huh?" Theo quirked a quick grin and the Omega shrugged. "I'm fine, just a bit meh. Think I'm coming down with something."

"Summer bug maybe," Stiles mumbled, letting his head thunk against the window. It was starting to become harder to concentrate on the road and the trees flashing by; maybe he really was coming down with some sort of summer flu. Dad would probably start fussing over him when he came back in a couple of days.

"… dad home?"

"What?" Stiles blinked and forced himself to straighten out, realising he'd missed a huge chunk of Theo's question. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"When's your dad coming home?" Theo repeated, slowing down to a stop when the traffic light jumped to red.

"Oh, er, this Saturday."

"Saturday?" Theo reiterated surprised. "When did he leave? Why's he gone for so long?"

"It's not long, just a couple of days," Stiles snorted, closing his eyes briefly. His limbs were quite heavy, as if they were being weighted down by something. "It's something for his work; a conference of sorts."

Dad hadn't wanted to go actually. With the serial killer on the loose – he'd begrudgingly admitted that the police was treating the cases of the four bodies as a serial killer one, even if they hadn't managed to find many links between the victims yet – he hadn't exactly been eager to leave town for a couple of days, even though his deputies were quite capable and could hold down the station on their own for a few days.

Still, his presence at the conference had been confirmed months ago and after debating about it, the sheriff had decided he would use his time at the conference to ask other sheriffs present whether they had had dealings with a serial killer like this one. Only the thought that other people might provide more information about the murderer had made the sheriff leave for the conference in the end. Not, however, before making Stiles swear he would lock all the doors and windows every night and when he was out during the day and under no circumstances was he allowed to go wander alone through the woods.

Up until a few months ago those rules would have made Stiles roll his eyes and complain, but after seeing the burnt body in the Preserve, he had no desire whatsoever to 'play detective' as Derek stated. He still could smell the disgusting, foul stench of human flesh burning; the bad odour seemingly having attached itself to the inside of his nostrils.

So no, dad wouldn't have to worry about him sneaking around at night; Stiles had had enough of that for a while.

"Ah. Well, should I call someone else?" Theo asked hesitatingly. "Someone who can stay with you while you rest?"

"I can take care of myself; I'm not a toddler," Stiles snorted, rubbing his eyes. Shit, if he got his hands on the one who had infected him with whatever annoying summer bug he was coming down with … They'd be so sorry!

By the time Theo parked in front of the house, Stiles swore he was going to sweat right out of his skin. It wasn't even that hot inside the car, but his damn clothes stuck to him like he'd just taken a swim in the pool. He pushed open the door before Theo could say something and stumbled out of the car, his legs feeling all weird and jelly like, rubbery.

He'd only taken a couple of steps before he suddenly buckled through his knees and he braced himself for the inevitable pain that would greet him when he fell, but strong arms wrapped quickly around his chest and hauled him upright.

"All right, come on, I'll help you to your room," Theo muttered and shifted his arms until one was wrapped around Stiles' waist and he slung Stiles' arm around his own neck, holding his wrist with his free hand.

"D-don't need your help," Stiles muttered and frowned when he heard himself slurring. Eugh, he'd be so pissed off if he had got the flu somehow!

"Yeah, unless you like to meet the ground with your face, you need my help," Theo said unimpressed and practically dragged the Omega to the front door. "Come on, here we go. Give me your keys."

"Pocket," Stiles said or at least that was what he thought he'd replied. His vision was starting to blur and a sudden wave of dizziness had him smacking his hand against the doorframe, in an attempt to keep himself upright.

Theo said something, but he had a hard time concentrating on his voice. He stumbled through the door which was suddenly open – Theo must have found his keys, thank god – and he thought he was walking up the stairs next.

The Alpha grunted something, his hands like searing brands on Stiles' body, and Stiles shivered for some reason; his lower belly feeling weird.

He was out before his head even hit his pillow.

* * *

When he woke up, he realised three things all at once.

One, he had no idea which day it was or how long he'd been out of it.

Two, he was naked. Like completely; nothing but sheets covering his lower body.

Three, his bedroom smelt like _sex_.

* * *

 **AN2: I don't know much about how police call in crimes, so bear with me, all right? *sweatdrops***

 **That said, last warning for you all: starting from here on, this story will gradually get darker. If you don't deal well with violence or Stiles getting hurt or some other dark things I'm planning, this might be a good place to stop reading as it will only grow darker from here on. Mind, it will have a happy ending (I swear!) but we're going to wrestle through some dark shit first before we can reach that part.**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: Managed to finish this chapter on time, which is like a miracle to me nowadays.**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: babyvfan; yukino76; Almondweb; Myxes**

 **Warnings: Angst mostly. A bit more explanation as to what occured during Stiles' heat and I took some liberties with the medical examination. If I need to add a specific warning, let me know!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 9_

His eyes locked onto wide, blue eyes ones and his stomach rolled, threatening to revolt. Swallowing back the bile – he was not going to puke, not now, not here – he slowly sat up, holding the sheets up until his shoulders.

Blood rushing loudly in his ears, he cracked open dry lips and croaked, "What the hell happened?"

It was a stupid question, a fucking idiotic one given the musty smell and his nudity, but a part of him grasped on to the sliver of hope that all this was just one big misunderstanding, that what he feared had happened, hadn't actually happened and that he hadn't … that they hadn't …

Theo shook his head slowly, appearing dazed as if he'd been whacked across the head and was only now waking up. He was sitting on Stiles' desk chair, though, fully clothed, so he couldn't have just woken up.

"I – I don't know actually," Theo said haltingly, frowning heavily.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Stiles demanded incredulously. How the hell could the Alpha not know what the fuck had happened?

"I can't remember much from the past," Theo checked his phone, "two days."

"It's Friday?" Stiles realised numbly. Friday. He'd been feeling off on Wednesday, but he couldn't remember much of the day itself, so he had lost two days. Two almost entire days in which he couldn't remember shit.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

"Y-yeah, it is," Theo confirmed, his face troubled. He raked a hand through his hair before groaning. "I'm sorry, my memory's fucked up."

"What do you remember?" Theo had to remember at least _something_ , because Stiles was drawing a completely blank, his head fuzzy, and his lack of clothes and the very distinctive smell was sending him straight into a spiral of suffocating panic. He was going _to freak the fuck out if he didn't get some kind of answer soon._

"I – you were feeling very warm," Theo started, flicking his eyes up to the ceiling; his face still set in a heavy frown. "But you were also smelling really good, for some reason, which is odd because I thought you were getting sick with the flu or so."

Dread settled into Omega's stomach as he realised with a growing sense of horror just what had occurred these past couple of days.

"I got you into your room and you were muttering something, but I couldn't hear it," Theo continued slowly, clasping his hands together. "So I bent down and asked you to repeat it and the only thing I could keep thinking of, that I remember clearly, is your scent. Like it was filling up the entire room, even more than usual, and it just … I don't know. Everything became a blur after that."

He breathed out slowly and when he lowered his gaze to Stiles again, he looked like he was going to be sick. "I can't remember anything after that. I woke up around half an hour ago, only to find out we're both naked somehow and the room smells like, you know," he waved his hands awkwardly, looking pale in the sunlight creeping through the curtains, "and I got my clothes back on. I've been trying to figure out what the hell happened since I woke up."

"Did you – did you feel like you were on fire?" Stiles questioned, not wanting to hear the confirmation, but knowing the answer will be positive all the same.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Theo nodded, a tad perplexed. "Yeah, actually. Like there was a fire running right underneath my skin. I thought I was going to explode with it."

Stiles closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, reminding himself over and over again that now was not the fucking time to lose his mind, to get lost in the panic threatening to overtake him. It was getting harder to breathe and he forced himself to inhale deeply and exhale slowly, keeping his rhythm as steady as possible, not wanting to give in to the blinding terror squeezing his lungs together.

"Stiles?" Theo sounded nervous, but not closer, which was good, because Stiles wasn't sure how he would react if the Alpha were to touch him right now. "Do you – do you have an idea what happened?"

"Heat Exposure," Stiles muttered miserably and on the other side of the room Theo inhaled sharply, evidently understanding what it meant.

Heat Exposure was, crudely formulated, an intense form of an Omega's regular heat. It occurred when the Omega in question hadn't had their heat in a long time and as a result, the pheromones built up until they basically 'exploded'. The Omega would get thrown in a heat worse than they had ever experienced before, but anyone around them at the moment the heat broke through would get affected as well. The others – be they Beta or Alpha – would experience a similar intense heat, their bodies forced to react to the presence of an Omega in the throes of their heat.

Was that what had happened to them? Had Stiles been thrown into Heat Exposure, dragging Theo into it as he'd been around him when his heat broke? It appeared to be the case, but …

Stiles took his suppressants every day. He knew that the longer he took them, the higher the risk of Heat Exposure occurring was, but that was why he'd always calculated how many months he could take his medicine before he had to take a break and not take them for two weeks. He had had still one month left before he should have stopped his suppressants and allow his heat to break through.

There was no way he could have miscalculated something so important, so how the hell had he been thrown into Heat Exposure when he'd been taking his suppressants still?

"That, that explains why I barely can remember anything," Theo said feebly, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I'm sorry, I thought I still had a month left," Stiles muttered, but his mind was still stuck on the issue with the suppressants. Not to mention – with Theo not remembering much either, just how far had things gone between them?

Obviously he was naked and Theo had been in a similar state before getting dressed and the room did smell like – like sex, but … They couldn't have gone all the way, right?

Ice replaced his blood as he contemplated that horrifying possibility. There was no way he could have had sex with Theo. He was still a virgin, for fuck's sake! He'd been hoping to have his first time with Derek, the one he actually wanted to be with - there was no way things between him and Theo could have gone that far, right?

He shifted around and didn't detect any lingering soreness, but … Bile burned his throat before he swallowed it back down and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Stiles? Are you …" Theo trailed off, obviously realising finishing that particular question would be stupid given what had just happened – or might have happened, Stiles didn't know.

He didn't know and he needed to know for sure, because what if … He'd had his heat, Theo had spent the last two days here, and during a heat an Omega was …

He didn't even dare to finish that thought. He needed to know, however. He was a big fan of ignoring things until they went away on their own, but this was something he couldn't, should definitely not, ignore.

"I'm fine," he said, aware that his smile was brittle and not at all reassuring. "I'm sorry, Theo, but can you leave? I need to clean up, air out the room, you know, before my dad comes home and starts asking questions."

All at once he felt jittery and the need to move around, do something, grew, but he didn't want to get up for as long as Theo was still here. He wanted to be alone before he would break down. It was still a tad difficult to breathe, but for now he was able to keep his panic at bay. He didn't know for how long he could hold it back, though.

"Er, if you're sure," Theo said uncertainly, rising up slowly. Rubbing his hands over his thighs, he licked his lips. "You're going to be okay?" he asked worriedly, keeping his eyes averted in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, I promise," Stiles said hastily, clenching his fingers into the sheets. "Just need to take a shower, you know? And clean up my room."

"All right, I'll text you," Theo said and for a moment he hovered, appearing unwilling to leave. Then he nodded and walked out of the bedroom.

Remaining in the same place, Stiles tracked Theo's departure, listening to him descending the stairs. The front door opened and closed again after a short moment. Another minute later and the engine of Theo's car rumbled to life before he drove off.

Stiles was alone again, nothing but the quietness of the house and some early chirping birds to keep him company.

He dashed out of bed and reached the bathroom just in time to throw up in the toilet.

* * *

' _n heat. Wll cal when it over'_

' _Okay! Take care!_ _😊'_

He read the two text messages over and over again, his leg moving up and down jittery. Scott's answer was dated 11.07 a.m. on the twenty-ninth of June. Somehow Stiles had managed to text his best friend about his heat, even though he couldn't remember having done so. The proof was staring right back at him, though, and it did explain why Scott hadn't been banging on the door this morning, demanding to know why the Omega hadn't given any sign of life the past two days.

"Mister Stilinski?"

His head shot up and he stared at the friendly, red haired nurse standing a few feet away from him. She smiled reassuringly and beckoned him to follow. "The doctor is ready to see you now; I can lead you to her."

"Yeah, er, thanks," he muttered, stuffing his phone in his pocket and following her hastily.

They passed several nurses and doctors, patients lingering in the corridors with their family members. The floor was buzzing with people chattering, papers flipping and nurses calling out patients' names, but Stiles was numb to it all. Every sound was muted, like he was underwater, and he kept his gaze fixated on the back of the nurse, her white uniform acting as some kind of beacon.

He wasn't at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. He'd debated going there at first, because it was closer and familiar – and the latter was the problem. Memorial Hospital had Mama McCall and she currently had a shift – meaning Stiles would have run into her if he had gone there. There was the whole secrecy oath, of course, but he doubted she would be able to keep it to herself if she found out what had happened. At the very least she would have urged him to talk to his dad about it and that was the last thing he wanted.

Dad was already upset at the Run in general, irate at the serial killer roving around Beacon Hills – he couldn't possibly heap even more stress on the sheriff's shoulders.

No, he was going to deal with this on his own. He was eighteen; he didn't need his dad to hold his hand.

Even if right now, he could really use somebody to support him as the nurse knocked on a door and a female voiced called for him to enter.

The nurse gave him a last reassuring smile as she cracked the door open before leaving to attend to another patient. Taking a deep breath, he slipped into the room, his eyes instantly falling on the woman behind the desk.

She looked to be somewhere in her forties, the first hint of grey glistening in her dark brown hair. She wore it in a loose bun with some strands escaping and framing her heart shaped face. She smelt like Beta and was currently bent over some paper, her pen scratching words onto it.

He couldn't help but tense up when she looked up, a faint smile gracing her light rose lips.

"Good morning, my name is Angelina Hope and I'll be your doctor today," she introduced herself, rising up from her chair and offering her hand.

He hesitated, the urge to flee flaring up before he squashed it down. He approached the desk, shaking her hand with what he hoped was a passable friendly smile.

"Hello, I'm Stiles Stilinski," he introduced himself in return.

His peculiar name combination only got a quick quirked eyebrow before she inclined her head and gestured at the chair in front of her desk. "Please take a seat. Can you tell me the reason why you want a consult today? You're not from around here, are you?" she questioned absently, flipping quickly through the papers he'd had to fill in when he'd arrived at the hospital. "Can I call you Stiles?"

"Er, no, I'm not. I'm from Beacon Hills and yeah, that's fine," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

Her gaze sharpened at that and she closed his file. "All right, no problem," she said soothingly. "We get people from a lot of different places. Can you tell me why you've come here today?"

His stomach flipping uncomfortably, he linked his fingers together and cleared his throat. Focusing his gaze on a pile of files in front of him, he started haltingly, "It's, er, I had my heat for two days and the thing is – I can't remember anything of what happened. And normally I shouldn't have had my heat yet, so …"

"Are you taking suppressants?" Doctor Hope questioned, her eyes assessing him carefully.

"Yes, every month."

"Do you take them consecutively?"

"Yeah, because it's too much of a hassle otherwise," he admitted, clamping his hands around his knees. "But I did the math years ago and I stop taking them for a while around the middle of August so that I get my heat then instead of somewhere during the school year."

She hummed thoughtfully. "And you didn't stop taking them this month?" she asked for confirmation, jotting something down.

He shook his head. "No, I always stop taking them in August. That's why I'm worried, because I'm still taking the suppressants, yet I got my heat on Wednesday."

"That's indeed strange," she muttered. "Do you perhaps have a bottle of them with you, so that I can take a look?"

"Oh yeah, here." He had to lift up his hips a bit in order to retrieve the small bottle, but soon the dark brown bottle was in the doctor's hands, who inspected the label carefully.

She opened it and shook some of the small round pills out of it, letting them fall in the palm of her left hand. "I know the issue," she said abruptly, pouring the pills back in the bottle.

"You know?" Stiles said startled. "What's wrong with them?"

Placing the bottle aside, she folded her hands on the desk and leant forwards a bit; a slight frown creasing her forehead. "The manufacturer distributing this particular type of suppressants had a problem a while ago and the pills they ended up delivering are faulty."

"Faulty, how?" he asked warily; the sick feeling in his stomach intensifying. Just how screwed was he?

"As you've unfortunately experienced, they don't suppress the heat at all," she said solemnly, tapping the white lid. "Instead it's like you don't take the pills at all. We've already had several patients here with the same issue and we've urged the company to do a call back, but so far they haven't done that yet."

"So basically, it's like I never took any suppressants at all this month?" he asked, mouth dry and his ears ringing.

If his medicine had been doing shit all month, then during his heat if he and Theo had …

 _Oh god._

"Basically, yes," she said with a grimace. "You mentioned that you can't remember anything during your heat? Right before it started, was there anyone with you?"

He gave a jerky nod, pressing his hand against his mouth. "Y-yeah, an Alpha."

"Your partner?" she inquired carefully.

He shook his head, pressing his eyes shut. "No, not – I mean, he's courting me because of the Run, but we're not … We aren't …"

"Okay, I understand," she said, her voice sinking into a soothing tone. "Does he remember what happened? Or did he leave?"

Wiping underneath his nose roughly, he took a shuddering breath, feeling way too warm in the small office. "He didn't leave. He – he can't remember much either. He told me it was like he had a fire underneath his skin, but that's basically all that he can remember."

"Heat Exposure," she murmured in realisation and sighed softly, running a hand over her hair. "I'm sorry for asking you this, but do you think something happened?"

He shrugged helplessly, rubbing his thighs anxiously. "I don't know. I – I don't feel any soreness, but …"

"You want me to check, see if I can find something?" she suggested gently.

"Yes, please," he whispered, hot tears pricking the back of his eyes. How the hell had his life screwed up so quickly that he was now in a hospital to find out whether he'd had sex or not?

"Okay, no problem," she said softly. "You can change behind that curtain there. You can keep your shirt on, but you need to remove your underwear and your jeans. I'll examine you first and I'll also draw some blood to do some tests. Depending on the results of those, we'll go over your options, okay?"

"My options?" He didn't like the sound of that.

She pursed her lips slightly. "Heat Exposure has your fertility heightened even more than a regular heat does," she said gently. "If something happened between you and this Alpha, it is possible that you are pregnant. Your bloodwork will show the results, although it will take a week unfortunately. Depending on those results, we'll discuss your options: another type of suppressants if you want or if you turn out to be pregnant, I'll explain what you can do then."

"Oh right," he said weakly, the ringing in his ears growing worse.

"When you're ready, you can change and then lie down on the examination table with your feet in the stirrups," she said, keeping her voice low and soothing while she opened her drawer and grabbed a pair of mint green gloves from a box.

Despite her overall gentle demeanour, Stiles couldn't say he was feeling any better. Still, he didn't want to drag this out any longer than necessary and so he scurried behind the curtain, kicking off his shoes and pulling down his jeans and his boxers. Feeling way too vulnerable in his half naked state, he awkwardly climbed onto the examination table, flinching at the way the paper crinkled.

He reluctantly rested his feet in the metal stirrups and laid down, staring at the broken white ceiling and trying to ignore the growing sense of panic stirring around in his gut.

"Okay, Stiles, have you had an internal examination before?" she asked, slipping on the last glove.

He shook his head and swallowed. "No, er, I went once, but they only used some kind of white thing on my stomach?" He flushed and kept his eyes fixated on the ceiling.

From his peripheral view, he saw her nod in comprehension. "You mean the transducer. Okay, then I'm going to explain first what I'll be doing," she said and grabbed a bottle from a drawer. "To check whether any form of penetration has taken place, I'm going to have to feel around with two fingers to inspect you. I'll be using this gel and I'm going to warm it up a bit between my fingers, but it might still be a bit cold," she explained apologetically.

Flicking the tab open she squeezed a small amount of the gel on her index and middle finger. "I know you're going to think this is stupid, but I need you to relax as much as possible, okay? That might not be easy, but it will help. If at any time you feel any discomfort or pain, let me know and I'll stop."

He nodded, not trusting himself to actually open his mouth and answer. His eyes were still stinging uncomfortably and he squeezed them shut for a moment, taking deep breaths through his open mouth.

"All right, I'm going to start."

The first touch of something wet and cool had him flinching and locking up his muscles.

"You're okay, I'll be very careful. Just try to relax as much as possible," Doctor Hope soothed and waited until he'd forced himself to relax more before she continued pressing her finger inside.

The sensation of having something entering down there, slippery and cold and alien like, was incredibly unnerving and he had a hard time keeping himself relaxed. Every cell in his body was pushing for him to close his legs and flee, put a stop to this invasive examination, but he stayed put, although the sick feeling was growing bigger now and he gnawed on his inner cheek.

"Try to think about something else," she advised him, her movements slow and methodical. "Maybe a vacation you went to, a place you like to visit or a movie you want to see."

He didn't think of those things. Instead, when he closed his eyes, his mind instantly jumped onto an image of shining multicoloured eyes and white teeth flashing in a rare bright grin. He held onto that, hearing the laughter as clear as day in his memory, could remember feeling proud that he'd managed to make the other one laugh like that.

"All right, it's over, I'm done!" Doctor Hope announced, stepping back and removing her gloves before dumping them in a small trash can. "You can change back and sit back on your chair."

Her face was completely unreadable, giving nothing away of what she had discovered, and on shaky legs he disappeared behind the curtain to put his clothes back on.

"So, er, could you …" he started to ask when he sat back down, but couldn't finish his question.

"There has been a form of penetration," she said carefully, her fingers linked together. "But it's hard to say whether that happened with fingers or something else."

"Oh." He wrangled his hands together, staring at the tiled floor. He didn't know how to feel about that. Now he still didn't have an actual answer, still didn't know what the hell had happened to him when he'd been out for two days.

"I'm going to draw some blood now," she went on. "And those results should give a more conclusive answer."

"All right," he mumbled and held out his arm while she set about gathering the equipment.

He'd always been rather squeamish around blood – which was ironic, considering he liked to look through his dad's police files – but now he didn't even flinch when the needle sank into his skin right into a vein. He stared blankly at the wall ahead of him, the ringing in his ears having made way for the sound of his blood rushing.

After placing a band aid over the spot where she'd drawn blood, Doctor Hope stepped back, placing the three small vials of blood in a metal tray on her desk. "I'm going to send these to the lab immediately and within a week the results should be ready. I'll call you once I have them and we'll discuss your options then."

"Sounds good," he managed to bring out and she patted his shoulder briefly.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" she said softly and he nodded, stumbling out of the room.

The entire way to his car was nothing but a blur and when he slipped behind the wheel of the Jeep, he sat there for a long time, not moving a muscle.

Wondering just why this was happening to him.

* * *

It was unreal, behaving normally when his dad returned the next day. He'd aired out the room, had sprayed neutralisers in it to get rid of that awful stench completely, and had washed his sheets and clothes.

He went through the familiar motions of greeting his dad and badgering him for information about the convention, preparing lunch for the both of them. Dad had talked to several other sheriffs of counties surrounding Beacon Hills, but none of them had had to deal with murders like the one taking place in their town now.

The older man was clearly frustrated with that fact, his lips thin as he talked about some of the other topics which had come up during panels before announcing he'd pop by the station for a few hours. Stiles hadn't expected anything else, so he didn't protest when dad stood up and ruffled his hair before leaving again.

It was easier to be alone now, easier not to have to pretend that everything was normal, that he wasn't afraid he could potentially be pregnant now.

He'd texted Theo this morning to give him a brief explanation of what had happened at the hospital. He hadn't mentioned the possibility of being pregnant, had just said they were doing to examine his blood, and the Alpha had been wise enough not to mention it either. He'd asked Stiles to let him know what the results were when they came in and had left the ball in Stiles' park when it came to meeting up again in the upcoming week.

No offence to the Alpha, but Stiles was definitely not in the mood to be around him, even if Theo wasn't exactly at fault here.

He needed time alone, away from the Alpha, and try to decide what the hell he was going to do.

If the results turned out negative, then everything would be fine. He'd just ask for another suppressant, something that couldn't be tampered with during distribution. If on the other hand the results were positive …

What was he going to do then? If he – if he was pregnant, what the hell was he going to do? He didn't want to be bound to Theo for life through a child. He'd been planning on waiting out the required six months and then he'd tell the Alpha he wasn't interested and they would part ways. How were they supposed to part ways if a child was involved?

Unless … He rubbed over his mouth, the letters on the page of his novel swimming in front of him. Would he be able to go through with it? Would he be able to abort the baby if he turned out to be carrying one?

He'd never thought about what to do if he unexpectedly ended up pregnant. Why would he have when he'd been taking suppressants for years and had always been careful with them? He took them diligently every morning at the same time just to make sure he was fully protected, so he never had to worry about a surprise pregnancy if he ended up having sex with someone.

Except now the possibility was there and he was scared shitless at the idea of it. He was only eighteen years old; he should be worrying about his upcoming classes once he enrolled into university, should be worrying about his homework and whether or not he would be able to handle the workload. He shouldn't have to deal with a possible pregnancy and the lasting consequences of that!

How was he supposed to decide what would be best for him? He couldn't even decide what he would be eating for breakfast that day, let alone make a decision as life changing and important as this one!

* * *

The week following passed by painfully slow. He upheld a mask of normalcy, met up to play games with Scott and was dragged into another shopping spree with Lydia. At certain moments during their shopping, it had looked like she'd wanted to say something, her eyes sharp and calculating, but she never did, instead keeping to the local gossip and her speculations that Jordan might be planning a proposal.

If Jordan was hoping for that moment to be a surprise, he would be quite mistaken. There was no fooling Lydia Martin after all.

Dad was mostly at his office, looking through the case files in an attempt to see whether he'd somehow missed a clue. So far there hadn't been another victim, but that didn't mean the police were relaxing. They wanted to catch the killer as soon as possible and Stiles found himself delivering dinner to his dad for a couple of evenings when the man had lost track of time and hadn't realised his shift was over.

Stiles took advantage of those times to snoop through other files and pester the sheriff into giving more details about his current one. Anything to fill his mind with, so that he didn't have to think about the being that might or might not be currently growing in his stomach.

"Maybe we could go to the lake again?" Erica suggested, popping a fry in her mouth.

"Oh, that would be nice!" Scott said enthusiastically; his arm resting on the back of Kira's chair. "I heard it's supposed to get even warmer tomorrow."

"The hottest day of the week," Theo agreed; the paper of his burger crinkling when he unwrapped it.

"It'd be nice to take a dip into the lake," Kira smiled, nearly whacking her milkshake to the ground when she reached out to grab a napkin. "Oh, oops!"

"What do you think, Stiles?" Lydia questioned; her shiny pink lips wrapped around the red and white striped straw.

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged and startled when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. When he checked the number flashing across the screen, his heart skipped a beat and he hastily stood up, drawing everyone's eyes to him. "Sorry, I'm going outside for a bit; I have to take this," he explained and hurried away before either of his friends could question who was calling him.

"Yes, hello?" he said, picking up as soon as he'd barged out of the diner.

"Stiles? You're speaking with Angelina Hope, your doctor," a female voice greeted him and he came to an abrupt stop in front of his Jeep.

"Oh, er, hello. Do you – do you have the results?" he asked, starting to feel somewhat light-heated all of a sudden and he pulled at the collar of his red shirt, wondering whether he should sit down in his car.

His stomach flipped upside down when she replied, "Yes, I received them just now. Can you stop by my office today? I need to discuss them with you."

 _Oh god._

* * *

 **AN2: So yes, if I need to add a particular warning, please let me know.**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter and wish you all a happy holidays!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: I managed to finish the chapter on time, look at that. That's like a miracle nowadays.**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Myxes; Almondweb; Natalie668**

 **Warnings: Hm, angst mainly. If there's anything you think I need to tag, let me know!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 10_

He didn't remember what exactly he told his friends before driving over to the hospital. Whatever excuse he had used, it had been believable enough apparently, because none of them had insisted on joining him or asking what was wrong. Theo had looked confused, but he'd accepted the excuse as well, which was good, because the last thing he needed right now was the Alpha insisting on joining him.

His stomach cramping up all the way there, he barely held it together throughout the entire trip. His hands were shaking and he gripped the steering wheel harder, forcing himself to focus on nothing but the road and the traffic. Certainly not on whatever news Doctor Hope had in store for him.

After parking, he forced himself out of the Jeep; his legs feeling like stretched out rubber. His stomach rolled with every step he took; his blood roaring in his ears. He felt cold in spite of the sun merrily shining down on him and he took several deep breaths to combat the creeping sensation of wanting to throw up.

 _God, please don't let him throw up now._

A nurse, not the same one as last week, told him he could go to Doctor Hope's office immediately as she wasn't tending to any patients at the moment. Heart hammering in his chest, he walked through the corridor, bypassing a couple of other nurses who were discussing a patient with low voices; one of them tapping roughly on the file in her hand.

The doctor looked up when he knocked on the open door and offered him a friendly smile, waving him inside. "Stiles, I'm glad you were able to get here so soon," she said, closing a file and putting it in a drawer.

"Yeah well, this is not something I want to wait a couple of days for," he replied, wringing his hands together as he sat down. "What – what're the results?"

She placed her hand on top of a closed file. "I checked them and they're negative. You're not pregnant," she answered, offering him a sympathetic smile when he sagged down in relief.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he groaned, "Oh thank god! Fuck, I've been so worried!"

"I can understand that," she nodded.

"And the results are correct? It's not a false negative or so?" he asked nervously, lowering his hands and gnawing at his lower lip.

"No, don't worry about it. They're not a false negative. I can assure you for the full one hundred percent that you're not pregnant," she assured him.

"Thanks, that's – that's great news," he said, releasing his breath slowly. He felt like he could turn into a puddle any moment now, relief so strong he could only sit there for a moment and let it sink in that he wasn't expecting a baby. He wouldn't be tied to Theo for the rest of his life through a child. That realisation was so sweet he had to close his eyes for a moment.

Doctor Hope let him have a moment to himself, before she said, "Now that your results are in, we can discuss your suppressants."

"Right." Stiles blinked and sat up, rubbing his thighs absently. "Has the company called back the faulty medicine yet?"

She wrinkled her nose and furrowed her eyebrows. "Not yet. They're doing a call back soon, within a week normally, but as far as I'm aware of not many faulty batches have been sent back yet," she replied. "Which is why I want to ask you whether you'll continue on taking these pills or whether you want to switch over to a different type of suppressant. It's all up to you. If you prefer your pills, I can write you a new subscription and you can pick up a new bottle in two weeks."

"What's the alternative?" he questioned curiously. He'd been taking pills for several years now, so he'd grown used to taking one each day, but if he had to be honest, he wasn't certain whether he trusted them anymore after this. If the company had produced one faulty batch, who was to say they wouldn't make the same mistake again?

"Injections," she answered, smiling amused when he shuddered. "Not exactly a pleasant method, perhaps, but it's an effective one. One injection will protect you up to eleven months; in the twelfth month you'd get your heat to prevent Heat Exposure from occurring."

"So just one injection and I wouldn't have to do anything else for eleven months?" he asked slowly, mulling over the idea.

Truthfully he wasn't a fan of needles at all. The sight of one alone was enough to make him nauseous and make his head spin, never mind actually feeling the prick, small though it might be. It would only be one injection, though … He'd be protected for eleven months; he wouldn't have to worry about possibly taking faulty pills. Enduring a needle was starting to sound rather great when faced with the possible consequences of continuing his pills.

"Just one injection," she confirmed. "It's quick; you won't feel a thing."

"I doubt that," he muttered underneath his breath.

"Should you decide that you want a baby after all in the upcoming eleven months, you can come back to get another shot which will dissolve the suppressant," she explained, opening one of the drawers in her desk to rummage through it. "Just have to wait three days for the suppressant to get out of your system and then you're good to go."

"I doubt I'll be wanting a baby anytime soon," he muttered, scratching his arm absently.

"I'm obliged to give you that information," she smiled apologetically. "So, you're choosing the injection then?"

"Yeah, let's go for that," he nodded and took a deep breath, his stomach already squirming when she started opening a long box to remove the needle out of it.

Just one measly prick – he'd be fine.

* * *

He might have almost kind of passed out when the needle pricked through his skin, but he was pretty certain he hadn't lost consciousness completely. Which was like a big feat for him and he was totally feeling proud of that.

Still a bit woozy from the sight of the needle, he slowly made his way out of the hospital back to his Jeep. Once inside, he couldn't stop himself from whooping and smacking his steering wheel in a sudden bout of excitement.

Thank fuck, he wasn't pregnant! He wasn't expecting a baby, there was no bun in his oven, no mini Stiles about to run around in a year. He still didn't know what exactly had happened during his heat, but he was cautiously hopeful that maybe things hadn't gone that far between them. If it had, surely the test would have been positive, considering heats were specifically designed to make the person in question more fertile.

And with the injection he wouldn't have to worry about accidentally swallowing faulty pills again either. He could be at ease for the next eleven months and by the time his heat would arrive again, he and Derek would be together and maybe – just maybe he would be sharing his heat with the Beta then.

That thought had him squirming around in his seat for a moment and he had to force himself to sit still and take a couple of deep breaths, keeping his eyes focused on the steering wheel. There was no point in getting excited yet with still four months left to go, but at least he was getting closer to regaining his freedom.

Just four more months – even less when he counted the time he would be away at university and wouldn't be able to meet up with Theo regularly – and then this shit would be over and he could be together with Derek.

He grinned and started the car. Just four months; a piece of cake.

* * *

"I almost forgot to ask – did you get the results back?" Theo asked softly, fiddling with the cap of his water bottle.

"Don't you fucking dare, Isaac!" Lydia screamed before it turned into a screech when Isaac threw her in the water with a large grin.

Pulling his eyes away from the scene, Stiles crossed his legs on the blanket and scratched his right knee. "Yeah, I did," he muttered, hoping the splashing of the water would cover their conversation a bit. The others didn't seem interested in what he and Theo were talking about, but the last thing he needed was for one of them to overhear the wrong thing.

"What did they say?" Theo questioned, his fingers stilling around the cap.

"Negative," Stiles said and wiped some sand from his arm.

"That's good to hear," Theo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His shoulders were starting to turn a bit red; he probably hadn't used sunscreen there. "Did they figure out how it was possible?"

"Faulty batch of medicine," Stiles replied curtly, stretching his legs before quickly pulling them back underneath the large parasol when the sun stung his skin. "They're taking the bottles back."

"Shit, that's not good," the Alpha whistled lowly and ran a hand through his hair. "Are you going to take them again once the new bottles aren't faulty?"

"No, I got an injection now," Stiles shook his head. "Works for eleven months, so I'm good for now."

The other man squinted at him and remarked amused, "Didn't you tell me you're scared of needles?"

"I'm not scared, I just really dislike them!" Stiles protested and smacked the Alpha's arm, making him laugh. "I just don't trust the pills anymore, that's all. And with this injection, I don't have to worry about getting a heat for the next eleven months, so I'm willing to suffer a needle if that means I don't have to worry about accidentally going into heat."

"How brave of you," Theo teased and snickered when Stiles retaliated by throwing a fistful of sand at him.

"You're going to set foot in the water at one point today?" Erica halted in front of the blanket, her hands on her hips and one blonde eyebrow cocked. Her dark blue bathing suit clung to her body; her bright red painted toenails formed a sharp contrast with the dark colour. She'd put her hair into a high ponytail but it was still dripping with water.

Lydia appeared next to her, looking like a vengeful goddess even whilst completely soaked – a look only she could pull off, Stiles was sure.

She pointed a manicured finger at him threateningly. "Move off the blanket, I need to dry off," she hissed; her eyes sparking fire. Isaac was suspiciously absent and Stiles hoped she hadn't drowned the guy as revenge.

His dad had enough on his plate already without adding another murder to it.

When she took another threatening step towards him, he scrambled off the blanket, holding up his hands and valiantly trying to ignore how the sand was burning his feet. "I'm already off it, see!" he squeaked, eyeing her hands nervously. He thought he'd seen a flicker of her claws and he didn't fancy getting scratched by her.

She harrumphed and sat down, folding her legs underneath her while she grabbed a towel from her bag. "The next person to think it's funny to throw me into the water will be very sorry," she stated calmly, but her eyes still held a dangerous sheen even as she started patting her hair dry.

"I'm sure they will be," Erica agreed lightly before grabbing Stiles' arm and tugging him to the water. "Come on, Stilinski! No point in going to the beach if you're going to stay dry the whole time!"

"Ever considered maybe I just want to get a tan?" Stiles suggested, but he allowed her to drag him to the edge of the water, spotting Boyd a bit further away, drifting on his back. Isaac was apparently swimming further into the lake, proving that Lydia hadn't succumbed to killing him.

The look she threw him was unimpressed and yeah, he couldn't really blame him for that. "You, tanning?" she snorted, forcing him to step along in the water or fall flat on his face. "Yeah, right. You mean, impersonating a lobster."

"That hurts, Erica; you're being quite offensive there," he told her and she laughed.

"It's not offensive if it's the truth," she grinned and grabbed his other wrist as well. "Come on now, let's swim!"

The water reaching his waist now, he turned his head to check where Theo was and found him still seated on the towel next to Lydia, being staunchly ignored by her. Theo saw him looking and waved with a grin, but didn't seem inclined to get up and join them in the lake.

Ah well, whatever. If Theo wanted to stay there, that was his prerogative. Stiles had come out here to have fun, to privately celebrate that he wasn't knocked up, so that was what he was going to do.

"Hey man, Erica managed to convince you to get into the water?" Scott grinned, showing up beside him. He'd been swimming, possibly having some match with Isaac as he was still breathing rather harshly.

"It's not as much convincing as just her dragging me along," he informed his best friend and the girl in question snorted derisively.

"How about a race?" she suggested, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "To the middle of the lake and back twice. The losers have to treat the winner."

Stiles estimated how far the middle was and shrugged. "Yeah, why not? I hope you've got enough money with you, Reyes," he smirked.

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, it's on, Batman."

"On three," Scott announced. "One, two, three!"

Belatedly Stiles realised that Erica had taken up swimming for several years. The flash of her teeth when she smirked and set off was enough to make him mourn for his wallet.

Shit, this was why he didn't make bets with her.

* * *

The next couple of weeks were filled with meeting up with friends, going on dates with Theo, and trying to decide which university he would start attending. Time was slowly running out and he knew he needed to make a decision soon. He'd never realised just how difficult it would be to make a choice, though. Every time he thought he'd finally decided on one, he started browsing through the leaflets of the others and he'd start wondering whether one of those wouldn't be a better fit.

He was slowly reaching the point where he was desperate enough to write the names of the universities on some scraps of paper, throw those in a bowl and let fate decide for him.

Nobody had ever told him just how difficult it could be to make a decision that would leave a huge impact on the rest of your life.

"You decided on a university yet?" Dad questioned, stuffing the last bite of his salad in his mouth.

"I've narrowed the list down to five!" Stiles stated triumphantly, cramming his own last piece of sandwich in his mouth. He'd delivered lunch to his dad, seeing as he hadn't been able to see the man last night or this morning.

He was also using his excuse of wanting to see his dad to enjoy the air conditioning of the precinct. The end of July was unreasonable hot for Beacon Hills and he was revelling in the cold air circulating in the office. The fans at home just didn't really do the trick.

Dad sighed and shook his head. "Well, I suppose that's an improvement to last week when you still had nine left."

"I'll chose one on time, don't worry," the Omega promised. He perked up. "Hey, do you think that maybe I could - …"

He was interrupted by knocking on the door before Parrish opened it and leant inside. "Sorry, but you're needed, Sheriff. A body's been reported by two joggers. Possible homicide."

Dad's face grew sombre and he rose up, grabbing his badge and gun. "Where was the body found?"

An uncomfortable look crossed the deputy's face and Stiles didn't miss the way he quickly glanced at him. "In the Preserve, sir."

A fifth body in the Preserve? Stiles' heart quickened and he sat up straight. Wide-eyed, he asked, "Do you think this one is also the work of that serial killer?"

Dad frowned at him. "I don't know and it's none of your business anyway. I told you to keep your nose out of this one, Stiles," he told him firmly and his son raised his hands.

"I know, I know, I'm staying out of it! Just curious, that's all."

Dad shook his head and clasped his shoulder briefly when he walked past him. "Go home, Stiles. No detours near the Preserve."

"Fine, I'll go," Stiles sighed, figuring he could nose around in the files online later on. He had no desire to see another dead body – not after the last one which still made him gag when he thought about it – but that didn't mean his interest in this case had lessened. Not by one bit.

"Straight to home," Dad warned him again when they stepped outside.

"I know, I will," Stiles sighed and waved at him before making his way to his Jeep, watching police cars drive away in the direction of the Preserve.

Another body in the Preserve – it could only be the work of the serial killer. It would be one hell of a coincidence if a second killer had shown up and decided to dump the body in the woods too. Stiles wanted to bet the body was found near that tree stump; the serial killer seemed to be quite fond of that particular place, which pissed him off, because that place had belonged to him and his mother.

To know that some sicko was dumping his victims there, in a place where Stiles had spent his happiest days …

It made him sick.

He was driving through Main Street when he suddenly became aware of just how much his clothes were sticking to his body. Frowning, he tugged at his collar before aiming the air conditioning to his face and neck. It didn't do much for him and his frown deepened; shit, was the air conditioning of his car also giving up on him? Dude, that wouldn't be cool at all, especially not in this blazing heat!

His stomach cramped together and he nearly slammed his foot on the brakes in surprise. Curling one arm around his stomach, he turned right, gritting his teeth when another cramp shot through him. Had something been off with the sandwich? He didn't think so; he always ordered from that place and their food was great every time.

It was only when he felt something wet trickling between his thighs that he realised what was going on. Horrified, he haphazardly parked his car on the side; his hands squeezing the steering wheel tightly. Pressing his teeth tightly together barely managed to contain his scream of frustration and he smacked his hand on the steering wheel, barely registering the pain shooting through his arm.

 _He was in heat._

 _ **Again.**_

How the fuck was that even possible?! How could he be in heat for the second time when he'd taken that injection? He shouldn't be having his heat for another ten months, what the fuck was going on?!

"God, not again," he hissed between clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. "Not again, not again, not again!"

This couldn't be happening to him, this shouldn't even be happening to him! His heat wasn't due for another ten months – what the hell was happening to him? Had the injection been faulty as well? But Hope had reassured him everything would be fine, that there was no way to botch up that particular suppressant.

If there wasn't, why the hell was his heat starting again then?

He yelped when his phone buzzed and he clumsily pulled it out of the pocket of his jeans, trying to ignore the way his boxers were starting to become rather damp, and opened the new text. It was from Theo, asking him whether he was still on for an afternoon of gaming.

God no. He couldn't see Theo now, didn't want to see him. He also didn't want to barricade himself in his room, which he normally would do when enduring his heat, but his whole room carried Theo's scent now because the guy was there quite often nowadays, and his skin positively crawled at the thought of spending his heat there, surrounded by the Alpha's scent.

He couldn't do that. Not after last time, not after having spent his heat already with that scent wrapped around him; a heat he still couldn't remember anything from, no matter how hard he tried.

He'd flip his shit if he had to spend his heat with that guy's scent around him.

Making a split decision, he reversed his car and drove to the only place that felt safe now; the only place where he could be sure to spend his heat without Theo's scent cloaking him, a place where he could trust the people living there to take care of him when he was at his most vulnerable.

"Stiles, I didn't know you were - " Erica cut herself off as soon as she caught a whiff of his scent and her eyes widened.

He smiled weakly at her, bracing a hand against the doorframe. His legs were the consistency of rubber at the moment and he needed to go lie down badly. "Hey, Erica, do you mind if I spend my heat at your place?"

* * *

He had made the right decision to come here.

He spent the next two days at Erica's place, sequestered away in a room furthest in the back of the house. She'd apologised profusely when she'd opened the door to the room and the old mingled scent of her and Boyd had hit them right in their faces. She spent her heats in this room, she'd explained, flitting from one side of the room to the next, pulling out fresh sheets and throwing one window open to air out the room. It was the only room where other scents wouldn't bother her, but she hadn't had the time yet to air it out after her most recent heat and whether he would terribly mind if the scent wasn't immediately gone?

Itching with the need to lie down and curl up into a ball, he'd reassured her that it was fine, that he wasn't bothered by it. It should, perhaps, because he really wasn't interested in knowing what the couple smelt like after having had sex, but he settled instead at the smell of _pack_ , of his friends, relaxing in a way he usually never quite managed to do during his heat.

Throughout his heat she made sure that he ate and drank enough, texting his dad to let him know where he would be spending the next two days. She might have alerted other people texting him – like Theo or Scott or maybe even Lydia – but she didn't mention them and he didn't ask.

She'd been flustered and a bit out of her depth when he'd came knocking on her door in the afternoon, but by the evening she'd regained her snark, evidence in the small bag she'd dropped on the floor next to the bed.

"What's in that?" Stiles had blearily asked, still curled up in a ball on the bed.

She'd smirked and answered cheerfully, "Doing my duty as one Omega to another one – I picked up some of your things that get you through your heat."

It had taken his brain a couple of seconds to realise the implication of her words and he'd choked, staring at her horrified. " _You went through that drawer?!_ "

She'd shrugged unbothered, turning to leave. "I wanted to get Derek, but I guess a toy is the next best thing for now, no?"

She'd been cackling when she'd left, shutting the door right in time before Stiles' shoe could have hit her. He'd cursed her out and whined, mortified that she'd gathered some of his toys, had actually gone through his drawer and collected them, all so he could spend his heat in a more comfortable way.

He hadn't known whether to punch or kiss her for that.

As it turned out, the toys were indeed the next best thing as they were quite helpful as an aid for his fantasies – although he would never admit that to her.

The knowing gleam in her eyes, though, told him he didn't need to admit anything aloud for her to know she'd been right.

Damn her. He was seriously starting to like her.

* * *

"You're feeling okay?" Erica offered him a sympathetic smile when he stumbled into the kitchen mid Sunday morning, still feeling groggy but no longer empty or aroused.

He'd taken a long cold shower to get rid of the sticky mess he'd turned himself into the last two days and to get rid of the heat stench. He'd thrown open all the windows in the room before coming down.

"Yeah, I'm feeling better," he sighed, accepting the cup of coffee and the plate with pancakes she pushed towards him.

They were the only two home at the moment and he dug into his breakfast with gusto, feeling like he hadn't eaten in days even though he had. Erica had made certain of that.

She leant her chin on her fist and stared at him. "I'm glad I could help you out, but was there a reason why you didn't spend your heat at your own place?" she inquired curiously. Her face was soft in the morning sun light, no traces of make up yet, and her hair was done up in a messy bun. The shirt she wore was clearly too big, handing off her right shoulder; probably a shirt of Boyd's.

He grimaced. "Didn't want to spend my heat in a room that smells like Theo."

"Ah," she uttered softly in understanding. Her hand darted out and squeezed his forearm gently. "Well, you're always welcome here. You don't need an excuse of a heat or wanting to escape Raeken for that. I'm glad to have you here." She sounded amused but her eyes were soft, even carrying a hint of uncertainty.

He smiled and turned his hand around, catching hers to give it a soft squeeze. "Thanks, I'm glad to be here."

She beamed, looking pleased before announcing she was going to make more pancakes with chocolate chip in this time, the warm weather be damned.

He grinned and talked and laughed, helping her with the dishes afterwards, letting her bully him into staying the afternoon as well, claiming he still looked a little bit like shit.

He felt like it too, but not for the reason she was imagining. His heat hadn't been as bad as the previous one, his body not in danger of Heat Exposure after a second time of experiencing it, but that didn't make all of this any better.

He needed answers, that was for sure.

For now, though, he was content to curl up on the couch, Erica's head resting on his shoulder, watching cartoons with her.

* * *

"Can you come over?" he asked tersely, his eyes flitting back and forth as he stood in the middle of his room.

"Er, I suppose so, yeah," Derek said hesitatingly. "Why?"

"I need your help with something. How quick can you be here?"

"I'll be there in five minutes," Derek stated, apparently catching something in the Omega's voice that alerted him things weren't right.

Breathing out slowly, Stiles lowered his phone once the _beep, beep_ sound announced that the older man had hung up on him. Throwing the phone on the desk, he ran his hands through his hair, pressing his lips together.

He'd gone to the hospital on Monday to get his blood checked again. Doctor Hope had been absolutely stumped when he'd told her he'd had his heat for the second time, not understanding either how that had been possible with the injection. She'd put pressure on the lab to examine his results first and he'd received them this morning.

The suppressant wasn't in his system anymore. It was completely gone, as if it hadn't been injected in him in the first place.

The only reason that could have happened, Hope told him unnerved, was if he'd received the counter injection.

He thought he would have known if someone had come up to him to jab him with a needle. Obviously he hadn't used the counter injection on himself either. So how had it happened? How could someone have injected him without him knowing about it?

 _If he'd been asleep._

That realisation was horrifying and it made him scared. Scared to acknowledge that the house he'd felt so safe in for his whole life had turned out not to be so safe in the end after all. Someone had managed to get into his room during the night and give him that injection. For what purpose he didn't know, but night time was the only possible moment in which someone would have been able to catch him off guard enough to use a needle on him. He thought he would have felt it if someone pushed a needle into him, but then again, you couldn't feel it when a mosquito bit you either, did you?

Why remove the suppressant in him, though? Who would even do such a thing? To what end?

Instead of answers, he'd only got more questions and he was desperate – and afraid – enough to call in outside help. He'd tried to discover whether any foreign scent had been inside his room, but he couldn't pick up nothing.

He could only smell his dad, Scott, Theo and Erica; nobody else.

Maybe he just wasn't paying enough attention. Could anybody blame him? He no longer was protected by a suppressant, because someone had removed it from his system. _Why_ would they have done that? _Who_ had done that?

His nose didn't yield any answers – but Derek's might.

Derek's scent of smell had always been stronger than his and he hoped that it would be the case this time too. If Derek managed to pick up the scent of whoever had broken into his home and injected him, then he could track that fucking son of a bitch down, get his answers and have the fucker thrown in jail.

At the moment, though, it was all he could do to not break into a panic.

 _He wasn't even safe in his own home anymore._

* * *

Derek made it in three minutes and after Stiles had explained him what had happened, his face darkened, his eyes flashing gold as he bared his teeth and stalked upstairs.

Stiles watched him wander through his room, a concentrated look on his face as he sniffed the air, discerning the scents.

"And? Pick up anything odd?" he asked nervously, twisting the edge of his shirt between his fingers.

Derek scowled, turning around to face him. "No, I only pick up your scent, Scott's, your dad's, Erica's," he raised an eyebrow and Stiles flapped his hand, shrugging, not wanting to explain her presence now, "and Raeken's." His eyes darkened at the Alpha's name, clearly not happy with that.

Ice filled the pit of his stomach and Stiles wrapped his arms around himself; his blood rushing loudly in his ears. "If you can't pick up any unknown scent – who injected me then?"

Derek hesitated, before crossing the distance between them in a couple of strides. He pulled Stiles to him, wrapping him up in a hug. "I don't know, Stiles," his chest rumbled against Stiles' ear, "but I swear we're going to figure this out."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Stiles slung his arms around Derek's waist and pressed his face into the man's shoulder, feeling like he was going to break apart any second now.

If he couldn't even feel safe in his own home – where would he be safe then?

* * *

 **AN2: I'm pretty sure I've said this before, but final warning: things are about to grow darker in this story, so prepare yourselves.**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: The chapter turned out to be a bit longer than expected, which is why it wasn't posted sooner *sweatdrops* I hope it isn't too bad!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Dorkchic; Almondweb; babyvfan; Myxes**

 **Warnings: Drama, shit's about to go down. As I warned you all earlier, starting from this chapter we're going to enter the really dark part of the story**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 11_

"You need to tell your dad," Derek said; clenching his glass with iced tea so tightly it was a surprise it hadn't shattered yet.

"I know," Stiles said morosely, rubbing his hands over his face. "I just …"

 _Don't know how_. How was he supposed to tell his dad what had happened? He'd have to admit that he'd done something with Theo whilst underneath the influence of Heat Exposure, but he couldn't even remember what. Then he would have to admit that he'd switched his birth control but someone else had messed with that as well. Dad was going to freak the fuck out if he heard all that; his blood pressure would go through the roof and Stiles didn't want to be responsible for the older man potentially having a heart attack.

But he couldn't keep quiet about it either, he knew. His previous suppressants had been a faulty batch from the company, but someone had deliberately messed with his injection. Someone who'd been desperate enough to get him to have his heat that they would go as far as breaking into his house.

Why, though? Why would someone break into his room to give him the counter injection? It just didn't make any sense.

"You can't keep this hidden from him, Stiles," Derek said firmly; his nostrils flaring. "Especially not when someone broke into your room. If you hadn't gone to Erica, who knows – " he cut himself off, looking away chagrined, but it was obvious what he'd been about to say.

If he hadn't spent his heat at Erica's place, what would have happened to him? Had whoever had injected him been following him around? Had that person been waiting for his heat to hit? If so, would they have broken into his room again to …

He shied away from the thought at the same time bile rose up in his throat and he swallowed it down; the bitter acid burning the sensitive tissue. He doubted anyone who had secretly used the counter injection on him would have had good intentions. He didn't know who had done it or even why, but obviously they hadn't been planning anything good.

"I know," he croaked, dragging a hand across his face. "I'm going to tell him when he gets home."

"Which is when?" Derek chanced a quick glance at the digital clock on the microwave.

"In two hours," Stiles sighed, sipping from his cold water just to have something to do with his hands. Apprehension had his stomach clenching together, however, and he barely managed a couple of sips before he pushed his glass away from him.

"I'll stay until your dad's home," Derek decided, crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow when Stiles opened his mouth to protest.

They held a staring match, daring the other to give in, until Stiles threw up his arms exasperatedly and released an explosive sigh.

"Fine! If you don't have anything better to do, be my guest! You might as well help me prepare dinner then," he groused and Derek smirked pleased, as if he'd won something.

Whatever. Stiles wasn't about to admit that he felt a lot more at ease with Derek sticking around now. Logically he knew that the chances of this creep showing up during the day were close to zero, but well, you could never be too sure.

And it wasn't like he was about to say no to spending more time with Derek either. Even if nothing could happen between them yet, at least he would be able to keep his mind off what had been happening to him lately, even if that reprieve would only last for a little while.

* * *

"Derek," Dad greeted the Beta surprised when he entered the kitchen a couple of hours later. He was still in his uniform, but his gun and badge were gone. "You staying for dinner, son?"

Derek shared a look with Stiles, who was poking one of the hamburgers with a spatula. He must have read something in the younger man's face, because he nodded and stood up. "Yes, if you don't mind."

Dad waved his hand, dragging out one of the other kitchen chairs and sitting down on it with a soft groan. "I don't mind at all. It looks like Stiles made enough for three anyway."

"All right, I'm just going to give my mom a quick call then," Derek said and went outside, pulling his phone out of his pocket and closing the door behind him.

The Sheriff looked at his son. "I didn't know Derek was coming over today."

"A spur of the moment visit," Stiles muttered, not wanting to get into the real reason why Derek was here before they had eaten their dinner. When he turned his head briefly to glance at his dad, the older man was staring at him with one eyebrow lifted up. "What?"

"Nothing." Dad shook his head. His forehead crinkled with a faint frown. "Are you trying to butter me up for something? Did you commit a crime, anything that I should be aware of?"

"What? I didn't do anything wrong!" Stiles cried out offended and the spatula in his hand nearly went flying through the air. "Where's that coming from?!"

Dad jerked his head at the pan hissing and spitting oil. "You're making burgers. You never allow me burgers unless you're trying to sweeten me up for something. So fess up: did you do something?"

"No, I didn't," Stiles sighed aggravatedly, opening the oven to retrieve the buns. "And the burgers are healthy ones."

"Of course they are," Dad sighed, but he still perked up when Stiles put a plate down in front of him; lettuce, slices of tomatoes and cucumber slices nearly hiding the burger from view.

Derek joined them at the table and for a while, they just chattered about dad's work, Stiles' inability to choose a university, the annoying cloying hot weather, all interwoven with the occasional curse when something inevitably slipped from between their hamburger.

"Now, mind telling me what's going on?" Dad gazed at him expectantly an hour later when the last plate had been stacked in the cupboard by Derek.

Stiles froze, halting the process of drying his hands. "Going on?" he asked in a rather squeaky high voice. "Why would something be going on?" He winced at how high his voice became at the end. _Way to remain inconspicuous_.

"I'm not an idiot, Stiles," Dad sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "No matter how healthy it's supposed to be, you only make me hamburgers when you need to tell me something and you don't know how to start. So, what's on your mind?"

"I could go," Derek offered quietly, hovering next to the Omega. "If that would make it easier for you to tell your dad."

"No, I - " Stiles bit his lip, debating whether Derek's presence would help or make things worse in the end. Maybe it would be best if he stayed? If only to help him hold his dad back and keep him from losing it completely once he was informed.

"Stay," he decided and Derek nodded; his sharp features softening for a moment.

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?" Dad said irritated.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles took reassurance in the wolf's reassuring presence next to him and started talking; the words pouring out of him like water from a tap once he started. It was as if a dam had been broken and he couldn't hold himself back, even as the older man's face shifted from worry to horror to fury as the story unfolded.

"Why didn't you – you should have told me about this as soon as it happened!" Dad snapped, pacing back and forth in the small kitchen.

"I only got the results this morning!" Stiles bristled; his claws extending and digging lightly into the edge of the counter top.

"Does Raeken remember anything?" Dad demanded, seemingly not paying attention to his son's retort.

"What, from last month? No, I told you, Heat Exposure. He doesn't remember anything more than I do – which is basically nothing," Stiles added bitterly.

"And you didn't pick up any unknown scent?" Dad halted his pacing, scowling at Derek, who shook his head.

"No, sir, nothing that stood out," he replied. He was leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed and looking visibly tense.

"Shit, that means they probably used some kind of spray," Dad muttered, clenching his jaw. "We need to make a report of this. Have you noticed anything strange lately? Maybe someone you don't know who's showing up at places you are?"

"No, at least not that I've noticed," Stiles admitted, forcing himself to retract his claws before he completely ruined the counter top. "Don't know why a stranger would even bother with messing with my suppressants in the first place."

"People can be quite sick," Dad said darkly and rubbed over his chin. "How many people know you switched your suppressants?"

"I told Theo, but that was at the lake, so there were several people nearby," Stiles answered, nibbling at his lower lip. "I wasn't really paying attention to who was listening."

"Hm, that doesn't really narrow it down," Dad muttered; the edge of frustration cutting into his voice. He fell quiet for a moment, contemplating about something before he inhaled deeply. "All right, tomorrow morning we're going to make a report about this and I'll send some deputies over to ask our neighbours whether they've noticed something strange around our house. In the meantime you're going to pack a bag; you'll be staying somewhere else until we've found the bastard who did this to you."

"I have to stay somewhere else?" Stiles repeated startled. "Why?"

"Stiles, whoever did this to you managed to break into your room and apparently wasn't afraid of waking up either one of us," Dad said tersely. "That tells me that this person is highly dangerous and will most likely be back. Who knows what would have happened if you had spent your heat at home?"

Stiles swallowed and wrapped his arms around himself. It was a thought he'd been desperately trying to ignore, because otherwise he would freak out even more than he was already doing.

Dad's face softened a tad. "Look, I'm not trying to scare you, but this is really serious, son. I can't have you staying here when we don't even know yet how that person managed to get into our house in the first place without alerting either one of us. Until we catch this bastard, it's safer for you to spend the nights elsewhere."

 _But what if you don't catch them before I leave for university?_ was the question he wanted to ask, but he held himself back and nodded miserably. "All right, yeah, I guess I'll stay with Scott then. He won't mind, I'm sure."

Dad grimaced and hesitated. "Look, son, I wouldn't mind, but I don't think Scott's house is a good place to stay at in this situation."

"Why not?" Stiles asked confused, furrowing his eyebrows. What was suddenly the problem with Scott? He had spent many nights at his best friend's place, to the point where Mama McCall didn't even look up in the morning when she found two boys at her breakfast table instead of just one.

"I know Scott; you can drop a bomb next to him and that boy wouldn't wake up," Dad sighed, resting his hands on his hips. "Given the situation, you need to stay with someone who will be able to wake up if something tries to break in. Sorry, son, but Scott isn't exactly the perfect person for that."

The Omega wrinkled his nose and pursed his lips, but didn't argue, knowing the older man was right. It _was_ quite difficult to wake up Scott once he was asleep; a fact his mother had bemoaned more than once.

"Well, where should I stay then? There aren't that many options left," he pointed out, frowning. The closest family member – a sister of his dad's – was several states away and he didn't care about the possible danger he was in, he wasn't going to leave his friends behind just to move in with his aunt several states away. He would already have to miss his friends when they were all spread out across the country, attending college or university, so he wanted to make the most of the time he still had left with them. He wouldn't be able to do that if he was stuck at his aunt's farm.

"You can stay with Erica," Derek piped up suddenly.

Stiles blinked at him. "Staying with Erica?" he echoed dubiously. Sure, he'd spent his heat at her place, but it was one thing to spend some nights at her house during a heat emergency and a whole other thing to basically move in there until he needed to leave for university.

"Would she notice anything suspicious happening?" Dad questioned thoughtfully.

"She would definitely notice that. Nothing gets past her or Boyd," Derek confirmed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "She basically guarded Stiles during his heat; you can trust her."

"Would she be okay with Stiles staying over at her place?" Dad wondered.

Derek held up his phone. "I already asked her," he admitted a bit bashfully. "She said she's more than okay with it and I quote, 'I'll kick the shit out of that creep if he even dares to come near the house'."

"That's Erica, all right," Stiles laughed a bit nervously, not surprised at all by her comment. That girl had never been one to take shit from anybody.

"That's settled then," Dad nodded and clapped his hands before pointing at Stiles. "Go get some clothes in a bag; I'm taking you to her place tonight. I'm going to make some calls first," he added and disappeared from the kitchen, presumably going to his study.

"Guess I don't have much of a choice, huh?" Stiles said, a bit sour. It wasn't that he minded staying over at Erica's if she was cool with it, but he absolutely loathed the idea that some kind of creep had actually managed to chase him out of his own house.

"It'll be okay," Derek said soothingly, squeezing his left shoulder softly. "We'll find whoever did this to you. They won't get away with it."

His eyes flashed dangerously and Stiles smiled waveringly. He allowed himself to give the older man a quick hug, inhaling some of his comforting scent, before making his way upstairs to pack a bag.

If anything he guessed he could use this as an opportunity to get used to sleeping without his dad's reassuring presence nearby. Practice for the upcoming academic year and all that, he supposed.

* * *

He renewed his suppressants through an injection the next day, but this time he didn't tell anybody about it except for his dad. He had no clue who could possibly be behind all this, but he wasn't going to take any chances of the creepy weirdo overhearing him telling someone he had got a new shot.

Erica had set up a bed in her own room, explaining that would be the safest option as this person, whoever it might be, would never be able to get past her. When Stiles had inquired whether Boyd had been okay with that arrangement, she had erupted in loud laughter, slapping him on the back and telling him Boyd was more than okay with that, considering Stiles was clearly interested in somebody else. She then had added apologetically that while she thought he was awesome, he couldn't quite measure up to Boyd and well, he guessed that was fair.

It wasn't like Erica could quite measure up to Derek either, so.

* * *

It wasn't until a couple of days after moving in with Erica that an incoming text from Theo reminded him that he hadn't talked to the guy in more than a week now.

' _You're done with your heat or is Reyes still keeping your phone hostage?'_

The weird question had him furrowing his eyebrows and he tapped his spoon slowly against his chin. Erica and Boyd were still outside, sunbathing, but he had retreated into the kitchen to enjoy some chocolate ice cream. His phone buzzing on the counter had drawn his attention right when he'd demolished a third of the ice cream in his bowl.

Theo's odd message prompted him to scroll up, curiosity piqued. He recalled Erica having used his phone to warn his dad and some of his friends where he was staying during his heat, but what had she texted Theo for the Alpha to sound so annoyed even through a simple text?

' _Stiles? It's been a couple of hours since my last text. You okay?'_

' _Erica here. Stiles has his heat and can't come to the phone right now'_

' _What are you doing at his house?'_

' _He's at my house. My place was closer by than his when his heat hit. You can talk to him afterwards'_

' _Unless it's Heat Exposure, he can text me himself. Give him his phone back'_

' _Raeken, if you can't wait a couple of days to talk to him, you're pathetic, man. He'll call you when his heat is over'_

' _I wasn't aware that you're his Alpha, Reyes. Give him his phone back, I need to talk to him. My voice might help him maybe even'_

' _You don't need to do shit, dipshit. I'm not his Alpha, no, but you're not either, so fuck off and be patient. Also god, can you sound even more creepy than that?'_

' _I'm courting him, so yes, I'm his Alpha. Give him the fucking phone back, Reyes, I'm not asking you again'_

' _How about no, dickface? You're not his Alpha at all. Back off before I tell his dad – you know, the Sheriff? – that you're harassing him and not taking no for an answer. How will that work out for you, you think?'_

There were no other messages exchanged between them until Theo's text today. Pressing his lips together, Stiles scrolled back and forth, rereading the texts while a sense of annoyance grew. He really didn't like how Theo considered himself to be his Alpha already. Dude was still officially 'courting' him and he thought he could already call himself Stiles' Alpha? Yeah, fat chance of that.

Even if he actually had genuinely started to like the other man, there was no way he would consider him his Alpha already at this stage. Besides, _his Alpha_? Last time Stiles checked, they weren't living in the Middle Ages anymore and Omega were no longer Alpha's property.

The dude should be glad it had been Erica answering his texts – Stiles would have been a hell of a lot more impolite, given how frustrated he'd been feeling during that time.

Something was nagging at him, though; niggling in the back of his mind. There was something about Theo's texts that unsettled him a bit, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Maybe it was just the rude way in which he had been talking – or well texting – to Erica, ordering her to return his phone and sounding more agitated every time she refused.

Perhaps it was the offhand comment about his voice assisting Stiles during his heat. Just the thought of having to hear his voice whilst in heat was enough to make his skin crawl. There was no way in hell Theo's voice would ever be able to help him during any of his heats.

' _Sorry about that. Been busy the past couple of days and didn't think to check my messages'_

' _No problem. Glad you're feeling better :)_ _Where are you, though? I'm at your house, but I can't hear you inside'_

Why the hell was Theo at his place? They hadn't agreed to meet up. ' _At a friend's house. why?'_

' _Just figured we could meet up; it's been a while._ _You're back on new suppressants then?'_

' _I'm at Erica's place. You can come over if you want'_ He deliberately ignored the last question, even though over text there was no way his stalker or whatever would be able to know that he was back on suppressants. Better to be safe than sorry, though.

' _What, no new suppressants then? LOL Not sure whether it'd be a good idea for me to come over, though :/'_

' _She's got some great ice cream stashed inside the freezer'_

' _Ha! I'll think about it'_

Honestly, Stiles didn't think it was a good idea either for Theo to come over after the texts he'd exchanged with Erica just a week ago, but he wasn't in the mood to go out alone with Theo.

Either the guy would show up here or he wouldn't. His choice.

In the meantime he would enjoy his bowl of ice cream and try to ignore that nagging feeling in the back of his mind. They were just texts; nothing really wrong with that, right?

* * *

In the weeks following Stiles finally made the decision to attend Berkeley University. With the trip being a six hour drive, give or take depending on the traffic, it was still the closest university to his home and while dad had insisted he shouldn't look at the distance, but rather where he would feel good, he knew he would never be able to feel at ease in a place days away from his dad and his friends.

Six hours was nothing to sniff at; it wasn't like he could just casually pop by before classes, but it would still allow him to visit his dad during the weekends and that was what finally made the decision for him. He could study everywhere, yes, but he would feel a lot better being only separated for around six hours from Beacon Hills than being several states away.

Someone had to keep an eye on his dad after all, was what he'd teased his dad with when he informed him of his decision and the older man had rolled his eyes, but had been happy that his son had finally made his decision.

He would need to leave for Berkeley in the second week of September to make it on time for classes, so he had only a couple of weeks left in Beacon Hills. Only a couple of weeks more with his friends before they would inevitably be separated.

"I'm only a Skype call away, Stiles," Lydia sniffed, adjusting her sunglasses.

"True, but it's not the same," Stiles sighed, biting absentmindedly at his straw. There was only a bit of soda left in the paper cup and he made an obnoxiously loud slurping noise when he sucked it up.

She raised an eyebrow and puckered her glossy pink lips. "I'm sure you'll find ways to bug me even through Skype," she remarked and rose up from the plastic chair. "Now let's go. I don't want to be late for our movie."

He grinned and stood up as well. "Yes, my queen."

"Damn right I am," she murmured, but her smile was genuine when she allowed Stiles to link their arms together.

God, he would miss her. Talking with her through a screen just wouldn't be the same.

* * *

In spite of the increased surveillance around the neighbourhood, there was no sign of anyone behaving suspiciously around the Stilinski house. None of the neighbours had noticed anything particularly out of the ordinary and it wasn't like there was much evidence in Stiles' room either – if at all.

So Stiles kept spending the nights at Erica's house, doing his best to ignore the sense of paranoia creeping up at him every time he set foot outside.

* * *

"Oh come on, baby," Stiles pleaded, pulling up the hood and staring helplessly at the parts displayed before him. "You can't do this to me now. You're supposed to get me to Berkeley in a couple of weeks, remember?"

His beautiful Jeep, Roscoe, just kept producing the familiar clanking noise of the engine cooling down, as if he'd merely parked it at the side of the road for fun instead of her breaking down suddenly.

"I don't even know what I'm doing," he muttered frustrated, running his eyes over the different parts again before giving it up. He had no clue what the hell was wrong with his jeep now and he didn't even want to consider how much the reparation would cost this time. He loved his car, but damn did she suck his wallet dry at times.

Closing the hood, he stared at the blue paint, chipped at a couple of places. "You're not going to get us back to the house at least?" he asked morosely and looked around resigned.

Thanks to an unexpected roadblock, he'd been forced to take a longer route to his house. Of course today of all days, when the sun had hidden behind some dark clouds and it looked like it was actually going to start pouring any minute now, his car had decided to give up and break down near an old warehouse. He wasn't even sure whether the warehouse was still in use. It looked empty and rather sad; he was pretty sure one of the windows at the upper level was broken.

"Fine, guess I'll call my dad then," he sighed, opening the door to the driver's side to retrieve his phone and wallet. He would call someone later to tow his car to the garage.

"Stiles? What are you doing here?"

"Holy shit! I didn't hear you!" Stiles whirled around, hands clutching his wallet and phone while his heart skipped several beats.

Theo blinked at him, closing the door of his own car behind him. Stiles had heard a car approaching, of course, he wasn't deaf, but he hadn't thought the car would actually stop nor had he expected to run into Theo today.

"What are you doing here?" Theo repeated and threw a confused look at the jeep. "Car trouble?"

"Yeah, Roscoe decided she has enough of driving for today," Stiles sighed, running a hand tiredly through his hair. "Was about to call my dad to pick me up. Or maybe one of his deputies could pick me up, I don't know."

"I could drive you home," Theo offered before smiling shyly. "I'm glad I see you today actually. I haven't heard from you in a while, so I was heading over to your house. Thought you might be in heat and that's why you didn't contact me."

"Sorry about that," Stiles said awkwardly, stuffing his wallet in his back pocket. "I've been busy with packing up my stuff after deciding which university I'll be attending."

That and he'd kind of been avoiding the Alpha during the last couple of weeks. The couple of times he had met up with him, at least one or two of his friends had been there as well, acting as some sort of chaperone. The niggling feeling still hadn't disappeared and while he had yet to figure out what was bothering him, he knew it had something to do with the Alpha standing in front of him now. Because he was a big fan of ignoring a problem until it went away, he'd fallen into the pattern of avoiding the other man as much as he could get away with it. He knew it didn't really solve anything, least of all the question why he suddenly felt so unsettled around him, but it had been a tactic he'd grown quite fond of.

Theo frowned and cocked his head. "You're attending university?" he questioned, sounding perplexed as if the idea alone was incredibly outlandish.

"Well, yeah, dude, what did you expect?" Stiles grinned weakly and shrugged. "I worked my butt off to get into those classes. Why wouldn't I go?"

"Because I'm Courting you," Theo said slowly, a bit bemused.

Brown eyes blinked. "So? What does that have to do with me studying at a university?" Stiles asked flabbergasted.

Something akin to irritation briefly crossed the Alpha's face. "I can't exactly Court you if you're miles away at a university, can I?"

Stiles rolled his shoulders and uttered a soft sigh. "Pretty sure we're not the only ones in this particular situation, dude. We'll figure something out," he said lightly and bent down into the car to retrieve his keys before locking the jeep.

"I didn't expect you to attend classes for as long as our Courting ran," Theo retorted and this time the annoyance was audible in his voice, as clear as day even.

"You can't expect me to put my life on hold for this, Theo," Stiles said sharply, scowling at him. Had this guy really thought Stiles would give up his studies for his Courting? Was he insane? Who the hell would put their lives on hold for a Courting? Nobody sane in this day and age!

"I can't even expect you to put some effort into this, so I guess it was stupid of me to assume you would put off university for a bit longer, huh?" Theo laughed bitterly and took a step closer.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Stiles narrowed his eyes. "I've been meeting up with you - "

"I've been doing my best these past couple of months to Court you, but you keep being dismissive!" Theo suddenly burst out; his eyes alight with anger. "Do you really think I haven't noticed that you've been avoiding me for these past couple of weeks? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

"Apparently you really are that stupid if you expect anything to come out of this!" Stiles exploded, finally done with this shit. Hadn't he been clear from the fucking start that he wasn't interested in him?! "I didn't choose you, so don't blame me if I'm not as interested in this wooing bullshit as you are!"

Theo appeared taken aback for a couple of seconds as if Stiles had slapped him, before he regained his composure and sneered. "No, I guess you rather want that pathetic Beta instead of an actual Alpha, huh?"

"That ' _pathetic Beta_ ' managed to catch me – something an almighty Alpha like you couldn't even do. So really, who's the pathetic one here?" Stiles smiled poisonously, watching satisfied how Theo's face reddened. "Big, tough Alpha had to use an underhanded rule to get an Omega – shows just how pathetic you are."

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously and Theo balled his hands into fists. "It's not underhanded if it's a rule," he spoke coldly.

"The fact that you need a rule like that to get the one you want says everything about you," Stiles spat and flipped him the finger. "I've been trying to be nice about this, but you knew from the start that I'm already spoken for and it sure as fuck isn't you and won't ever be you. At least keep the last bit of self-respect you have left and walk away, dude. You can try for as long as you want, but I'm never going to be interested in you."

"You sure about that? You might want to rethink that," Theo stated and there was something in the way he said it that made Stiles still and regard him warily.

"Are you threatening me?" he asked in disbelief.

Theo lifted an eyebrow. "I've still got two months left to Court you," he said calmly.

The nagging feeling suddenly grew worse and before Stiles could think twice, he blurted out, "Are you the one who removed the suppressants out of my system last month?"

"Why would you ask that?" Theo asked; face completely blank.

 _He didn't deny it_. He wasn't denying it. That realisation ran rampant in Stiles' mind and his heartbeat was suddenly loud in his ears, hammering in his chest.

If he hadn't done that, surely he would be denying that assumption, wouldn't he? But he gave no outright answer, just asked why Stiles would question him about that – because that way _his heart wouldn't give him away._

If he hadn't given Stiles the counter injection, he could have just said that. If he was the one who had broken into Stiles' room, however, and he denied it now, his heart would betray him.

 _Heartbeats never lie._

As clear as day he could recall his mother telling him that several times, every time he tried to get away with a lie.

"My little Mischief, heartbeats never lie," she would laugh, patting his chest gently. "You can fib as much as you want, but I'll always be able to hear it."

One could get away with half-truths, small white lies maybe even – but one could never straight out lie.

For Theo to not deny it instantly …

Derek hadn't picked up any unknown scent, he realised with a sickening feeling. They had all been so focused on thinking some unknown creep was after Stiles, that they had ended up ignoring the most obvious answer: that the lack of an unknown scent meant the culprit was someone known.

Scott would never mess with his suppressants, his dad definitely wouldn't do that, Erica had no reason – but Theo did.

Theo who was so hellbent on Courting him, who had been asking those questions about his suppressants …

In hindsight, Stiles should have realised this all much sooner. God, he'd been so _oblivious_. How could he have not seen this before? The answer had been there all along and he just hadn't seen it. All the little clues – Theo's questions about his suppressants, his remarks about his heats, his annoyance with Erica for keeping him away from Stiles – finally fell into place, revealing the bigger picture.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" he demanded snarling and whipped his phone out of his pocket. "I don't know what the hell you were thinking, but you're fucked up! I'm going to call my dad and you're going down, buddy. I can't wait to see you in jail!"

"You might want to rethink that course of action," Theo remarked blankly, holding up his own phone in the air, his thumb resting on a button.

"Yeah? Why the fuck would I do that?" Stiles bared his teeth, already scrolling down in his contact list to find his dad's number.

"Because certain … things might happen if you make that call," Theo murmured; his eyes dark. "Things to people you love – like say, your dad."

"You think you can threaten my dad, you fuck?" Stiles snarled and pressed on the call button, lifting his phone to his ear while glaring at Theo.

The man in question just cocked his head and shrugged, his thumb pushing down before he lowered his phone. He made no move to get away, though, and it took every last bit of restraint in him to not attack the fucking son of a bitch.

 _Who did he think he was, threatening his dad?!_

"Stiles?" Dad sounded distracted when he picked up and in the background, someone was calling a code through the radio. "What's up, son? I can't talk for long, Parrish and I were called down for a crash downtown."

"Dad, it's Theo," Stiles said, taking several steps away from him. Theo just looked at him, smiling, and the empty look in his eyes was enough to make a shiver run down the Omega's spine.

 _The guy was fucked up._

"What about him, Stiles?"

"He's the one who - "

"Wait, what the hell is that guy doing?" Dad suddenly cursed. "Parrish, watch out, he's going to - "

The deafening sound of metal crashing against metal, tires screeching madly, had Stiles jerking his phone away. Someone screamed before the noise was abruptly cut off and then only silence remained.

"Dad?" Stiles asked with a trembling voice, panic seeping in quickly, restricting his lungs, making it harder to breath as his heart kept pounding away, ringing filling his ears, drowning out everything else. "Dad? Dad! Answer me!"

Nothing. _No reply._

As Stiles stood there frozen, his world crashing down around him, Theo murmured silkily, "Like I said, you might want to rethink your decision."

* * *

 **AN2: So yes, starting from here on, we're going to enter the dark part of the story. Warnings will be updated accordingly, but expect some shit to happen.**

 **I hope this wasn't too rushed! Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: The beginning gave me some trouble, but at least I still managed to finish it on time!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; out of control with OCs; MotherOfDragons1; AlmondWeb; babyvfan; Sally**

 **Warnings: Angst; disturbed Theo; description of dead bodies**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 12_

" _I can't tell you much yet; they've only just brought the both of them in. Wait here, okay?"_

" _Your dad's tough, Stiles. I'm sure he'll pull through. I have to go now, but I'll be back once I've got news, I promise."_

" _Hey, everything's going to be okay."_

Melissa's voice kept echoing in his mind as he clung to her reassuring comments, clutching at the belief that everything would be fine.

It was hard to believe that, though, when he was in the exact same place where he'd lost his mother before. If he lost his dad now as well, then …

No, he couldn't think like that. His dad would get better, he was sure of it. What was an accident for someone with accelerated healing? Nothing, right? He'd be fine. Then he remembered the screeching noise of metal crushing and screams of agony and he cringed, burying his face in his hands. His breathing was loud in his ears, which was funny, because he felt like he just couldn't get enough air in his lungs, no matter how hard he tried. His lungs refused to inflate and black spots were slowly forming in front of his eyes and god, please not now, he really couldn't deal with a panic attack now, not here, not when his dad …

The sound of approaching high heels ripped him out of the swirl of panic he'd almost got trapped in and his head shot up, heart going into overdrive. Lydia was making her way over to him, her hands clutching her Prada bag and her eyes glittering wetly. Her face was almost completely devoid of make-up, save for some mascara and some lip gloss and her hair was pulled together in a messy ponytail. Her lips were pressed tightly together, resembling a thin line, and she said nothing when she sank down in the chair next to him.

She toed off her blue high heels and pulled her legs up, looking more like a lost, scared girl than the powerful woman she normally was. One of her hands found his and her fingers curled around his tightly while she placed her head on his shoulder. Her whole body was tense and she uttered a sound of dismay when he untangled their hands, before relaxing a bit when he threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in a more comfortable position. His other hand found hers and he linked them together, resting them on his thigh.

There, they remained seated for a long time. She, waiting for news of her mate and he, desperate to hear news about his dad. Both praying that when a nurse would approach them, it would be with a smile and not a frown.

Nothing else mattered at this point.

* * *

"The surgery went well."

"It wasn't easy at times, but he pulled through. He's got five broken ribs of which two of them punctured his lungs. His left arm is broken in two places and his right leg was shattered from below the knee. He lost quite some blood and had to get a couple of transfusions. He's got some massive bruising in his abdominal area and he sustained a minor headwound."

A hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. "I know all of that sounds rather scary, but he's going to heal completely, I swear. Even his shattered leg will grow back once he's got enough time to heal."

"How long will it be before he's completely better?"

"If he doesn't exert himself and rests like he's supposed to, he should be all better in a week, a week and a half at most."

"Can – can I go see him?"

"Of course you can, sweetheart. He should wake up soon."

His heart was pounding madly as he rushed through the corridors, ignoring the nurses and doctors mingling around. He only had one destination in mind and that was the room at the end of the third floor. Melissa had told him the good news, but he would only allow himself to be fully relieved once he saw with his own eyes that his dad would be okay.

Visiting hours were nearly over, but he didn't care about that. They would have to make an exception this one time, because he wasn't going to leave this hospital without checking that his dad was fine.

He barely kept the door from slamming straight into the wall when he flung it open with all his might and he stumbled inside, his eyes going straight to the lone bed inside the room. There were machines on both sides of the bed, beeping in a slow, regular rhythm and several wires were connected to them; he would probably trip over them if they hadn't been so high up in the air.

He didn't care about the machines, though. All his attention was aimed at the figure lying in the middle of the bed, nearly swallowed up by the white blankets. A white bandage covered his forehead and an IV-line was inserted in his right hand. Even with the blankets covering most of his body from view, they hardly could hid the fact that the Alpha looked like shit; ashen pale in the stark bright lights of the hospital room.

Hands clammy and stomach attempting to revolt, Stiles shuffled towards the bed, swallowing down the lump in his throat when dad opened his eyes slowly and turned his head slightly to look at him.

A weak crooked smile appeared on his lips. "Hey, kiddo," he murmured, voice rough, and turned his left hand so that his palm was visible. "How are you doing?"

A strangled noise – it could be a sob, it could be a hysterical chuckle, who the fuck knew – escaped him and he grabbed dad's hand. He wanted to squeeze it tightly, but didn't dare; the older man looking so fragile right now, he was scared he would break him if he tightened his grip even for a little bit.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" he croaked out and when dad grimaced, hot tears sprang forth, leaving a blazing hot trail behind on his cheeks before he wiped them away roughly. "Fuck, dad, you scared the shit out of me, you know that? I've been waiting for hours for news and I was so scared that Mama McCall would come out and say that, say that - " he choked on the rest of the words, not brave enough to finish his sentence.

"Hey, hey, I'm okay," Dad hushed and raised one arm up, beckoning him closer.

Stiles immediately hugged him, careful not to disturb the wires, and buried his face in dad's neck, smelling the overpowering scent of disinfectants and pain. Underneath it all, though, was the comforting scent of his dad.

"Don't say that when you're lying in the hospital," he rasped, hands grasping at dad's shoulders. "You could have died!"

"But I didn't," Dad said calmly, rubbing soothingly up and down across his back. "It's not as bad as it looks, I promise."

"Your lungs were punctured and your leg is crushed," Stiles stated flatly, pulling back a little to stare at him. "I wouldn't call that 'not as bad as it looks', dad."

"Nothing that won't heal," Dad grunted, gingerly patting his hurt leg. "More of an annoyance than anything else, really."

Stiles shook his head and sat down on the bed, balancing on the edge. "What happened?" he asked. He'd seen some deputies patrolling the corridors, but none of them had come forwards to talk to him. Granted, they probably didn't know much either, given that two of the main witnesses had been in surgery for hours.

Dad grimaced. "Don't know really. All I can remember is a car – I think a beat up Honda – crashing into us before speeding away."

"Have you seen who was behind the wheel?"

"Some young man, I think. I couldn't get a good look at him," Dad sighed. "Hopefully some people in that street will be able to give a better description. Have you heard how Jordan's doing?"

"He's faring a bit better than you," Stiles answered. He and Lydia had split up after Melissa had informed them about the surgeries. Parrish was in a room around the corridor and Lydia had gone to visit him. "Some broken bones and some blood loss, but he'll be back on his feet soon."

"Good," Dad nodded, looking relieved. "I don't know whether he was able to get a better view of the car, but I'm glad he's all right."

"Yeah, me too," Stiles said softly. Parrish was a great guy; it would have been a blow to lose him.

"On another note," Dad said lightly, "What did you want to tell me when you called me earlier?"

Stiles stared at him, taking in the expectant look on the older man's face. Then he recalled Theo's warning and smiled weakly, "Nothing important, don't worry about it."

" _Remember that I've got eyes everywhere. One wrong move, one wrong word, Stiles, and next time something worse will happen, I promise you that."_

* * *

He waved at Joanne, the deputy who'd driven him home, and unlocked the front door. He would need to call a towing truck in the morning for his car and ask one of his friends to drive him to the hospital with a bag for his dad, but now all he wanted was to fall down in his bed and go to sleep.

The adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving a bone deep weariness behind and a head too heavy to keep upright. It had to be somewhere after midnight now and the whole house was silent, darkness cloaking everything in shadows. Slowly he made his way upstairs, forgoing the shower for now. He'd texted Erica in the car to let her know he wouldn't crash at her place tonight, but would fill her in on everything in the morning.

What he could tell her anyway, considering …

He became aware of the second heartbeat too late. He froze on top of the landing and stared at the closed door of his bedroom, behind which someone was waiting for him. That someone was none other than –

"What are you doing here?" he asked flatly, pushing open his door and staring at the figure casually lounging in his computer chair.

Theo smiled and stood up, his thumbs hooked behind the loops of his jeans. "Just wanted to check whether you're okay," he said, smiling, as if he wasn't the cause of Stiles' misery right now.

"Do I look okay to you, asshole?" Stiles spat, fingers tightening around the doorknob. He started trembling, not with fear this time but with anger and he wondered whether he'd be fast enough to rip off that bastard's face.

Theo tutted. "I know you're mad now, but you're the one who insisted on being difficult," he said, raising an eyebrow. "If you would just comply, I wouldn't have had to go that far."

"You're fucked up in the head," Stiles gritted out, his claws drawing blood from his hand when he clenched his fist.

"Aren't we all a bit?" Theo chuckled and then crossed the distance between them so quickly, Stiles barely had time to stumble backwards. A hand shot out and gripped his chin painfully hard, pulling his face roughly upwards, forcing him to look the Alpha in the eye. "Things between us can be so good, Stiles, if only you allow it to be. I've got a couple of months left to Court you; I'm sure you'll love me eventually."

"That will only happy when hell freezes over!" Stiles snarled, lashing out with his claws.

He grazed Theo's cheek before the man swiftly stepped backwards; his eyes glinting in the darkness. His teeth flashed when he murmured silkily, "That might happen sooner than you think. I'll see you again soon, Stiles. Sweet dreams." He turned around towards the staircase. "And remember, one wrong move and something worse might happen to your dad. Or your friends. I'm not picky either way."

The threat still hanging in the air, the Alpha descended the staircase and a minute later, the front door opened and closed again, leaving Stiles alone in the house.

He barely reached the toilet on time before he started throwing up.

* * *

"You've got everything, dad?" Stiles questioned, placing another cooled water bottle on the table.

Dad gave him a fond smile and shook the remote. "Yeah, don't worry. I'm set for the entire afternoon," he chuckled. "What are you going to do? You want to watch the game with me?"

"Nah, I'm going to mess around on the internet for a bit before I start making dinner," Stiles grinned. "Just call me if you need something else, all right?"

"Or I can get it myself. I'm not an invalid." Dad gave him a pointed look.

Stiles waggled his finger at him. "You've heard what Mama McCall said yesterday: you still need to rest as much as possible and not put any strain on your leg. That means not getting up if you don't need to."

"You're so fussy," Dad grumbled, switching on the television.

"Or maybe I'm just concerned," Stiles shot back before making his way upstairs, carrying a plate with some sandwiches and a soda can wedged between his arm and side.

Dad had been allowed to leave the hospital last weekend, but he was still on forced rest until at least next Monday; the break in his leg worse than they had initially thought. The bone had been shattered so badly, it was taking him longer than expected to heal. The forced rest had dad grumbling and annoyed by it, but Stiles wouldn't allow him to do anything more strenuous than going to the bathroom. The more dad rested, the quicker he'd be back on his feet.

He'd complained that as the sheriff of this town, his presence at the precinct was necessary, but Stiles had retorted that he could look at the files in the comfort of his own home as well. It wasn't like the deputies stayed away from the house, after all. The first couple of days after dad had returned home, it had been a steady coming and going of deputies, all wanting to see with their own eyes that their boss was okay. Parrish had been here several times already; the last time carrying some files for the sheriff to work on during his forced leave.

The station had been trying to track down the one who'd rammed his car into the sheriff, but so far none of them had been lucky. The car seemed to have disappeared like smoke and with no license plates, the cameras on the streets were useless as well.

The two deputies informing dad about the progress of the investigation – or the lack of it – had been both equally frustrated and angry. An attack on the sheriff was considered an attack on all of them and none of them were happy about the lack of clues that could help them find the driver.

Even Talia Hale had shown up at their house a few days ago to inquire about the investigation. She'd stayed for a few hours, sharing coffee and cake with Stiles and his dad (considering dad's leg had been literally shattered, Stiles had decided his old man deserved some leeway when it came to unhealthy food) and had promised they would find the car and bring the guy to justice, no matter how long it would take.

Stiles had appreciated the sentiment, but all he had been able to think of during her visit was that he couldn't come too close to her in case her scent got wrapped up in his. Normally he wouldn't have cared about that – he really liked her, had from the first moment he'd met her – but Theo's threats lurked in the back of his mind and after what had happened to his dad, he'd realised just how dangerous the other man could be.

He didn't know how Theo had done it, but somehow he'd convinced someone to drive their car into the one his dad had been driving in. Not only that, but this other person had to have been tailing his dad for a while. It was only after Stiles had threatened to reveal that Theo had been the one to mess with his suppressants, that the incident had happened. One press of Theo's thumb and the other guy had made his move. Given how little time there had been between Stiles' call and the cars crashing against each other, the other person had to have been tailing his dad – how else could he have got there so quickly?

And if that guy had been tailing his dad – how long had he been doing that? How spread out was Theo's network? Did he have someone tailing every single one of Stiles' friends in case Stiles 'stepped out of line'?

Stiles desperately wanted to tell his dad what Theo was doing, that he was the one who'd orchestrated the whole crash, but he was terrified of what would happen if he did. Dad would believe him, no doubt, but what would Theo do if he found out Stiles had opened his mouth? Did he have someone keeping an eye on him right now – or was he currently keeping an eye on him?

The not knowing what Theo was exactly doing, _why_ he was doing it, was making him paranoid and had him jumping at every shadow he saw. The daily messages of the Alpha didn't help him either; the texts making it very clear what Theo expected of him.

' _I'm going to pick you up to watch a movie and this time we're going to make it a private date. No friends of yours crashing our date like usual, just the two of us'_

' _I'm a bit embarrassed to admit this, but I really don't like the scent of the Hales on you. It makes me restless, you know? ^^; I hope you won't mind, but would you limit your meetings with them a bit? It's just weird to smell my competitor on you, you know? LOL'_

' _How's your dad doing? Hopefully better than last week!'_

' _Saw Deputy Parrish in the store today; I'm glad to see he's doing better :)_ _Crashes like that one can end really ugly after all'_

The texts appeared so innocent at first glance, made him sound shy at times and friendly, but Stiles knew better. There was nothing shy or friendly about Theo Raeken. A dangerous psychopath came closer to describing him.

He wanted nothing more than to see his fucked up ass thrown in jail, but he needed to find a way to keep his dad and his friends safe first. As long as he didn't know how big Theo's network was, he couldn't make a move. He couldn't endanger his family or his friends, so he endured the man's presence for now – even if it made him sick to the stomach to let him touch him and kiss his cheeks.

He would need to do something soon, though, because the date of leaving for the university came closer and closer, but Theo had made it clear what would happen if he went. He had to find something before his friends became suspicious as well and they would soon, no doubt about that.

 _God, he fucking hated Theo Raeken._

Dragging his laptop closer, he logged in and went straight to the police's database. He was still trying to come up with a way to end whatever game Theo was playing, but his lack of ideas was making him frustrated and he needed some distraction before he started going crazy.

What better way to distract himself than to look through the files of the serial killer again? He wouldn't be disturbed by his dad, so he could look through the files as much as he wanted to as long as he got up in time to make dinner. Hell, maybe he would stumble upon a link, a clue or something like that, that the deputies hadn't discovered yet.

"Huh." He stared blankly at the file he'd pulled up. There had been another body found three days ago, which made the total of victims six now. Fuck, this killer wasn't joking around, huh?

The sixth victim had – yet again – been found in the clearing with the tree stump, but this time the man – an elderly man of seventy – had been strangled; his trachea crushed. He'd been dead for at least a day before someone had discovered his body.

Were they really looking for a serial killer? So far each person had been killed in a different way; didn't serial killers usually have one way of killing, a manner that set them apart from all the others? But then again, it would be a really big coincidence if six different killers all had decided to dump their victims in the same place. The first two, all right, yeah, he could imagine that, but these murders had hit the newspapers, so one would have to be very stupid to go to a crime scene to dump his victim – or one had to be very bold.

While the six different ways in which the victims had been killed made it more likely to assume that six different murders were active, that was both a terrifying and unsettling thought and highly unlikely considering all six victims had been found in the same place. That much coincidence just couldn't exist, not even in a place like Beacon Hills.

So one murderer, but why the six different ways? Was there a reason behind that or was it all just nilly willy, whatever the killer had been in the mood for that day?

"Let's see," he mumbled, retrieving a notebook and a pen from his desk.

The first victim, Elisabeth Crown, had been practically mauled to death with the cause of death ultimately being ruled as severe blood loss from her throat being ripped open. It had looked like an animal had attacked her – or someone in his animal form. The latter seemed more likely, given that there hadn't been any evidence of mountain lions in the Preserve. So murder disguised as an animal attack.

The second one, Jonathan Green, had been killed by a knife through the heart; instant death. Marc Franklin had been buried alive; no bloodshed there, instead he'd been suffocated by dirt.

The fourth one had been burned alive; it had been a thirty year old woman named Samantha Bellings.

The fifth victim had just been a kid; a ten year old boy. Nausea filled him when he read the information about the poor kid. Nathan Summers had been found near the tree stump again, soaked to the bone. Cause of death: drowning. The murderer had first drowned him in the lake before dumping his body in the clearing.

The most recent victim had been an elderly man named Peter Mullen. Strangled manually; trachea completely crushed.

Six victims, six different ways in which they'd been killed, and none of them had any connection to the others whatsoever. Yet they had all been dumped around the same tree stump. So what linked them together? What had made the killer seek them out and murder them in those ways?

Mauled by an animal; stabbed to death; buried alive; set on fire; drowned and strangled. None of those methods had anything in common. The first two had drawn blood, true, but the others hadn't. Perhaps one could consider the strangulation and the burial as related to each other, because they both had deprived the victims from air, but …

Pondering he stared at the pictures of the victims, placed next to each other on the screen. Two women and four men – or three men and a boy. Both sexes had been targeted, so whether one was female or male didn't seem to have anything to do with it.

The ages ranged from young to old, so it couldn't have anything to do with that either. The hair colour was different, the races were different … Nothing linked them together seemingly, aside from apparently being murdered by the same person who had a weird fixation on that tree stump.

What was it even about that tree stump that made it so special for the killer? What exactly drew the murderer to that place?

He couldn't find anything special about the stump in the reports. No mention of any evidence or signs carved in it, or …

Wait.

Frowning, he scrolled up again and then clicked rapidly through the different reports detailing each death. They had nothing to link each other – except that Deaton had been present and consulted at every scene.

Why the hell would Deaton be needed at a crime scene? At every murder scene even? There was no need for a druid to attend a murder scene; that was out of his jurisdiction so to speak.

Unless …

Stiles' eyes widened and he grabbed his notebook, staring at the list of names and their causes of death. There would be no need for Deaton to get involved – unless his expertise would be necessary to aid the investigation. Him being a druid, there could only be one reason for the police to call in his help.

With that in mind, he went over the list again, compiling in his mind every titbit of information he'd read about druids and magic in general. There were certain kind of elements which were important to druids and to any magical users in general. The four nature elements were the most famous one; the ones most people tended to think of when thinking about druids and what they did.

The third victim – he'd been buried alive. That could refer to the earth, couldn't it? The next element: fire. The fourth victim had been burned alive. Third element: water. The boy had been drowned. The fourth element: air. The last victim had been strangled; his air supply cut off.

Earth, fire, water, air. The four nature elements. What would one use those elements for?

 _For a ritual._

His heart started to beat quicker and his fingers tightened around the paper. Was that it? Was that the clue? Were these people murdered for some kind of ritual? Where did that place the first two victims? Their deaths obviously couldn't be attributed to any of the nature elements, so under what kind of 'requirement' did they fall? Blood had been drawn – could that be it?

If the killer was indeed working on a ritual, what kind of purpose did it have? What was the end game, the goal of this ritual? He didn't know much about rituals and their set up, but he knew enough to realise that considering the ritual required people to be killed, it couldn't be anything good.

Did this mean that the killer was some kind of druid? Or did one not have to be a druid necessarily to perform a ritual?

Well, there was only one person who could answer his questions.

* * *

"You want to speak to Deaton?" Scott asked surprised, looking up from the laptop on which he'd been arranging appointments. "Why?"

"Just got some questions about his work as a druid," Stiles replied vaguely, waving his hand haphazardly through the air and nearly knocking a plant off the counter. "Is he in?"

"Oh, you're thinking about becoming a druid?" Scott grinned. "That's cool, man! Yeah, he's in. He's not with any patients now, so I don't think he'll mind if you talk to him now."

Stiles grinned and thumped his friend's shoulder. "Okay, man, thanks!"

He passed through the door which separated the front from the back and walked through the narrow corridor before he ended up in front of Deaton's office. The man in question looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Mister Stilinski, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he inquired mildly, rising up from his chair. "You have a pet that requires assistance?"

"You think my dad would let me have one?" Stiles snorted and entered the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn't expect Scott to listen in – he wasn't as sneaky as Stiles was – but he liked the illusion of privacy that the closed door gave.

"Then I'm not sure why you're visiting me," Deaton said, watching him with mild curiosity.

"I'm here to ask you a couple of questions about your druid work, if you don't mind," Stiles said lightly, stopping in front of the desk.

Deaton blinked. "Of course. Ask away. I'll try my best to answer."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Stiles said, faux cheerfully, and slapped his notebook down on the desk. "See, I was looking through the reports about the serial killer my dad's been hunting down these past couple of months."

"I'm pretty sure that your father requested you to keep out of this," Deaton remarked blandly, but Stiles waved it off.

"And I couldn't help but notice that each report mentioned your name." He stared at the man, who gazed back calmly, appearing unruffled as always. "That got me thinking, you know? Why would the police request the help of a druid for something as a murder?"

Deaton remained quiet.

"But then I considered their causes of death again and it suddenly hit me: these are not normal murders, are they?" Stiles asked, cocking his head. Tapping the page, he said, "These people were killed as part of a ritual, weren't they?"

"What makes you think that?" Deaton asked politely; his eyes flickering to the page once.

"The presence of the four nature elements," Stiles replied, studying the older man carefully. "One victim was buried alive, which could be linked to the element of earth. Another one was set on fire, which clearly is a reference to the fire element. Then we've got one who was drowned: the element of water, easy. The fourth one was strangled and I suppose that one isn't that clear immediately, but you can still link it to the element of air. I can't immediately link the first two victims to the ritual, but I'm guessing their blood has something to do with it. Am I right?"

"Quite the detective work you've been doing, Mister Stilinski. Although I'm pretty certain your father wouldn't be happy with that."

"Am I right or not?" Stiles repeated stubbornly, clenching his jaw. When the druid didn't reply, he nodded grimly. "I am. What kind of ritual requires so many bodies? Do you know who's behind this? Is that why the police has been calling on you for help? What's the purpose of this ritual? Does that tree stump have anything to do with all of this?"

Deaton opened his mouth, but was interrupted by his phone ringing loudly. "Apologies, I have to take this one," he said apologetically.

Stiles huffed and rocked back on his heels, impatience brewing inside of him. He knew he was on the right track even if Deaton kept being evasive. He just needed the guy to confirm his suspicions.

"Alan?"

His ears pricked when he recognised Talia's voice on the other end of the line. Why was she calling him now?

"Yes, Talia? How can I help you?"

Even from the other side of the desk, Stiles had no trouble picking up the tremor in her voice when she said, "Alan, she's – she's gone. Someone kidnapped Cora! Someone took my little girl!"

His blood turned into ice.

* * *

 **AN2: Yeah, another cliffhanger. Sorry, not sorry LOL**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note: I had a bit of trouble putting this chapter together, so I hope it isn't too bad!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Myxes; babyvfan; AlmondWeb; MoonIllusion**

 **Warnings: Hm, angst I guess? There's nothing really specific that needs a warning I think**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 13_

"Cora's gone?" Stiles repeated, his voice sounding weird in his own ears as if there was some kind of echo.

Someone had taken Cora? Why? Where? What the hell were they planning with her? Was it meant as some kind of attack on Talia?

Or was it …

"Yes, she unfortunately is," Deaton confirmed, putting his phone into his pocket and retrieving a small briefcase from underneath his desk. "I'm afraid that I'll have to cut our meeting short. As you'll undoubtedly understand, the mayor requires my assistance."

"Wait, shouldn't the police be called?" Stiles questioned, the papers of his notebooks crinkling and bending when his fingers tightened around the sides.

 _Cora was gone._

"I'm certain they were called," Deaton said, remaining completely unruffled as if he hadn't just received a phone call from a terrified mother. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go now. We'll have to continue our discussion another time."

He was politely, but firmly ushered out of the office and Deaton locked the door before striding out of the hallway, leaving Stiles behind. Scott was still seated behind the desk when he emerged from the hallway and the smile his friend threw him told him Deaton hadn't said anything to him about Cora having been abducted.

"Hey, man, did Deaton manage to help you out a bit?" he asked grinning.

"Er, yeah, he did. Say, I'm off now, I still have to buy some stuff for dinner," Stiles fibbed and thanked the gods when Scott just nodded, not paying attention to his heartbeat after being best friends with him for so long.

There was a part of him that wanted to stay and tell Scott what had just happened, but what would that do? It wasn't like Scott could do much and he wasn't close with the Hales to start with. No, Stiles' best chance now was to go home and wait for his dad to arrive so he could get some answers.

Not that waiting would be easy, not when he knew Cora was missing and all his mind could do was come up with all kinds of reasons why someone would kidnap her, but he couldn't do much now.

Not yet at least.

So he would play the waiting game and hopefully at least _some_ of his questions would get answered today.

* * *

Dad didn't come home until the early morning hours and Stiles knew that meant bad news. He didn't even need to look at his dad's haggard face or smell the pure frustration rolling off of him in waves.

"You didn't find Cora yet?" he asked anyway, his fingers clenching around the doorframe of dad's bedroom.

"Kid, shouldn't you still be asleep?" Dad threw a pointed look at the clock, which announced it was barely past six.

Stiles ignored that. "Did you find any leads to Cora yet?"

"How do you even know she disappeared?" Dad frowned, halting in changing his shirt for a fresh one. "Did you listen to the radio again?" His disapproval was tempered by a note of exhaustion and Stiles wondered whether he'd been up all night, going over every piece of evidence they had.

He probably had, because that was just how the sheriff was.

"I was with Deaton when Talia called him," Stiles answered impatiently. "Dad, do you have an idea where she is?"

Dad sank down on the bed and ran his hands over his face. "No, Stiles, I don't yet. We're still going over what we have so far, which is not a lot," he said bitterly and sighed. "I only came home for a quick change of clothes and then I'm going back to the station. What were you even doing at Deaton's?"

Ignoring that question as well, Stiles nibbled at his lower lip before asking meekly, "Do you – do you think she got kidnapped by the serial killer?" It was a question he barely dared to ask aloud, his stomach cramping and twisting together at the thought alone, but he needed to know.

He needed to know whether in a few days' time he might see Cora's name added to the growing list of victims – a list which was becoming way too long.

"I don't know, son," Dad said quietly, his eyes dark and sombre. "I hope to god not. So far the Hales haven't been contacted yet, so whether it's the serial killer or someone trying to take revenge on the family remains to be seen. I'm hoping we'll get some breakthrough today."

"If I can – " Stiles started to say, but was abruptly cut off by the older man, who cut his hand through the air almost violently.

"No, you're not going to get into the middle of this," Dad stated firmly and stood up. "We don't know who's behind this and I won't have you bringing yourself in danger. I don't want you anywhere near this case or snuffling around in the files, do you hear me, Stiles? I'm serious about this. If I find out you've been sniffling around, grounding will be the least of your worries."

The look in his eyes said there would be no arguing or protesting against it and Stiles raised his hands hastily. "I promise!"

"I mean it, Stiles, if I find out that you started your own investigation," Dad started to work up to a rant, but Stiles cut him off before he could really get into it.

"Dad, I swear I won't!"

Dad still looked like he didn't quite believe him, which while rude was quite understandable as well, but he sighed and motioned for the younger man to leave the bedroom. "All right, I'm going to finish up here and then I'm back to the station. You got any plans for today?"

 _Aside from obsessing over Cora?_ , Stiles thought, but that would probably only lead to yet another lecture about keeping his nose out of this, so instead he said, "I was thinking of going over to Lydia's. You know, spend some time with her before she leaves."

Dad nodded approvingly. "That's good. I'll see you tonight then."

"You're eating dinner here?"

"Yeah, can't promise I won't go back afterwards, but we'll have dinner together," Dad confirmed and then shooed him off. "Go on now, go catch some more sleep before you turn into a zombie."

He actually hadn't caught much sleep at all while waiting for his dad to return home. He'd dozed off for a bit, but every time he would fall into a deeper sleep, he'd startle awake again. So yeah, he was tired, but given everything that was happening he doubted he'd be able to rest well.

Still, a nap wouldn't hurt he guessed. At least it would make his brain sharper for the upcoming research he was planning.

* * *

"How much do you know about the murderer going around and offing people?" was the first thing he asked when Lydia opened the door.

She stared at him unimpressed. "Really, Stiles?"

"Look, I need your help, okay?" he said, a bit agitated, and squeezed past her inside. "I know this has something to do with a ritual, but I haven't been able to figure out which one it is yet or what the goal is and with Cora having been kidnapped, I don't think I - "

"Wait, Cora's been kidnapped?" she asked abruptly and slammed the door shut. "Cora as in Cora Hale?"

"Yep, that one. Talia called Deaton when I was there and I heard the whole conversation. My dad's looking for her, but they don't know yet what the kidnapper wants, so unless the kidnapper reaches out today, I don't think …" he trailed off and swallowed, not wanting to finish his sentence.

Not that he needed to; comprehension dawned upon her face and she pressed her lips together, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. "You think her abduction has something to do with that serial killer?" she asked knowingly; her eyes briefly flickering towards the notes clutched against his chest.

He shrugged. "I don't know," he said evasively. "But don't you think it's one hell of a coincidence that after so many murders, Cora gets abducted? I'm not saying a random abduction can't happen, but I don't know. It just feels too much of a coincidence."

"Does the police have any idea how long the killer kept his victims?" Lydia asked, going straight to business as he'd expected.

That was why he'd come to her. She was one of the smartest people he knew and would be able to make connections even he missed. If there was anyone who could help him figure out what the ritual was about, then it was her.

Following her up the stairs to her room, he answered, "Five to seven days on average. That's their assumption at least, because the family of some of the victims hadn't heard of them in a while, so it could be longer than that even."

"If the kidnapper is the killer, then we have around five days to find Cora," she mumbled, closing the door behind him. "That's not a broad window. I take it they haven't been able to narrow down the possible places she could have been taken to?"

He shook his head, sitting down on her bed and spreading out his notes. "As far as I know, no, but dad didn't want to tell me much."

"Not a surprise there," she clucked her tongue and sank down next to him, crossing her legs and picking up some of the pages. "How do you want to do this?"

"I was thinking that you could focus on finding which ritual is being put together, while I concentrate on figuring out why the victims keep being dumped in one specific field," he explained, handing over the rest of the notes detailing the victims' deaths and some general information he'd pulled down from the internet about rituals. It wasn't much yet, but he hadn't been able to concentrate last night.

Lydia settled herself more comfortably against some pillows and booted up her laptop, placing her notes next to her on a pillow. She pulled her hair back into a simple ponytail and started typing.

His own laptop was just in sleeping modus so after logging back in, he was instantly greeted with the five tabs he'd pulled up last night before having given up when his brain had refused to cooperate. Now, however, the thought that Cora might have been taken by the serial killer spurred him on to look at the pages more properly.

Was he completely certain that Cora had been taken by the killer? No, not without more information. Did he believe it was a random kidnapping or at least only targeted towards the Hales and not necessarily tied to the murders? That he couldn't wholeheartedly believe either. His gut feeling was telling him there was reason why Cora had been kidnapped; he just needed to find out what that reason was. If it was tied to the killer, they needed to be act very quickly before the murderer could add a seventh victim to his growing list.

If it did turn out to be a random abduction, well, that person could better hope they wouldn't be caught then, because going up against the Hales was a very stupid thing to do.

Now, what was so special about that damn tree stump?

* * *

It was a couple of hours later, after they'd taken a short break to eat lunch, that Stiles found his attention straying more and more to his phone. It had been silent the whole day so far with only one message from Scott asking him where he was and one from his dad to warn him he'd be home an hour later.

Surprisingly Theo hadn't bothered him either and while that was rather odd, considering the man hadn't left him alone since their less than fun conversation in Stiles' bedroom, he wasn't about to be sad about it either. The less he heard from Theo, the better in his opinion. He still needed to figure out a way to get rid of that guy for good, but for now Cora and the mysterious ritual were taking precedence over a creepy dude who was clearly messed up in the head.

Erica hadn't texted him once either, even though he'd expected at least one message to ask him where he'd been last night considering he still slept over at her place. She didn't send anything, though, and it took him a bit to realise that the reason behind that was probably the same one driving him to do this research: being close to Derek, she was probably out there helping look for his missing sister.

Thinking about Derek had his stomach flipping uncomfortably and he worried his lip between his teeth; his eyes flashing between his screen and his phone. He wanted to contact the Beta, let him know that –

Yeah, what? That he was there for him, but that he couldn't see him, because Theo would flip his shit? That would lead to some very uncomfortable questions probably; ones he couldn't answer because there was a chance Theo might find out and that was the last thing he wanted.

But not saying anything, especially now that his youngest sister had been kidnapped, was something he couldn't do either.

"Either you pick up your phone and text or call whoever you're thinking about or you don't, but make up your mind, Stiles," Lydia's irritated voice ripped him out of his thoughts and he started, whipping his head around to stare at her.

"I wasn't …"

The look she threw him told him quite clearly to cut the bullshit and he smiled embarrassed, grabbing his phone and scrambling off the bed, nearly tripping over his own shoes. "All right, I'm just going to …" He jerked his thumb to the corridor and she waved him off, her attention already back on her notes.

He pulled the door closed behind him when he stepped out into the corridor and after staring at his phone for an embarrassing long time, he typed ' _How are you holding up?_ ' and sent it before he could think twice.

The words stared back at him and he groaned, thumping his head against the wall as he realised how utterly fucking lame he sounded in that text. He should have just left his phone alone, because this was just stupid. Who asked someone whose sister had been kidnapped how they were holding up? Obviously not great!

The phone ringing in his hand had him freezing up for a second, his heart beating quicker as he wanted Derek's name appear on the screen. His hesitation whether he should pick up was quickly halted when Lydia cleared her throat meaningfully from inside her room.

"Pick up the phone before I shove it down your throat," she said calmly and yeah, okay, if that was how it was going to be …

"Hey," he greeted lamely, aware that it had been quite a while since he'd last seen or spoken to the older man.

"Hey," Derek returned exhausted.

Leaning against the wall, Stiles started fiddling with a loose thread of one of the loops on his jeans. "How are you feeling?" he asked and cringed. One stupid question after the other.

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Derek released a long sigh. "Not that great," he admitted and Stiles imagined him ranking a hand through his hair. "I've been out searching since I got the call, but nothing."

"Did you hear anything from, you know?" Stiles fumbled, not wanting to say the word 'kidnapper' aloud, even though they both knew he could be talking about one thing only.

"No," Derek replied shortly; frustration like the edge of a knife underlining his voice. "They didn't try to contact us at all. We have no clue who's behind this, so it could be anyone."

"Did anyone see it happening?" That had to be the case because why else would Talia have called Deaton to say her daughter had been abducted instead of just missing?

"Laura did," Derek said curtly. "She and Cora were planning to head out to the mall and Cora had gone ahead to the car. Before she could get inside, another car stopped and somebody dragged her into it before speeding away. No license plate and Laura didn't get a good look at them, so we don't know anything at all."

"I'm sorry, Derek," Stiles said softly, knowing it was inadequate, but not knowing what else to say. What did you say to someone whose little sister had been taken away?

"Yeah," Derek said softly and silence fell between them for a while before he broke it again, "Thanks for calling me."

"It was a text," Stiles said dumbly and shook his head. "I'm sorry I can't do anything. Dad threatened to do something worse than grounding if he caught me investigating."

A humourless laugh escaped the Beta. "Stiles, I don't expect you to do anything; your dad's right. This isn't something you should get into the middle of; it's too risky. I'm just … It's good to hear your voice again."

"Yeah," Stiles said softly, closing his eyes. It was good to hear Derek's voice again too. He hadn't realised just how much he'd missed hearing him talk until he heard his low voice through the phone.

"I have to go now, search through another part of the Preserve we haven't done yet," Derek said and Stiles heard branches break underneath his shoes. "Maybe – maybe we can meet up again once all this is over and Cora's back?" he asked hesitatingly.

If they get Cora back. "Yeah, sure," Stiles smiled weakly. "I'd love to."

"I'll talk to you soon," Derek promised.

"Sure, I hope you'll find her soon."

"Yeah." A deep sigh. "Me too."

Beeping filled his ears when Derek hung up and he lowered his phone, staring down at the white carpet with unseeing eyes. He wasn't sure whether it'd been a good idea to reach out to Derek again. At least not until he'd found a way to fix his problem with Theo, but … It'd been good to hear his voice, even if the circumstances were beyond shitty.

A door opening had him looking up and he met Lydia's gaze. "You're ready to get back to the research?" she asked softly.

He threw one more look at his phone, of which the screen had gone dark, and nodded, stuffing it in his pocket. "Yeah, let's continue."

* * *

"I think I found it," Lydia broke the silence several hours later.

It was inching into evening and the time when he needed to leave in order to be on time for dinner and he'd started to think they would be researching for days. There was nothing online about whether a tree stump could have a significant meaning in a ritual and he wondered whether the place had merely been a coincidence after all.

"What did you find?" He shuffled closer to her, glad that she at least had made more progress than him.

She tapped on the screen where a diagram was shown of a perfect circle with an X right in the middle of it. Seven people had been drawn around the circle with lines connecting them to the X. Each person had a symbol drawn next to them and he could recognise four as ones depicting the four elements of nature.

"I've looked through various rituals and compared the preparation and 'ingredient list'," her grimace was full of disgust, "with the information you pulled from the police files and this ritual seems to be the one the killer is setting up."

"What does it do?" The explanation next to the diagram was naturally in Latin, because they couldn't make it easier than this and he read through it quickly, words like ' _power', 'harness_ ', and ' _moon_ ' popping out immediately.

"I spent some time translating it," she said and thank god for that, "and basically the ritual seems to be used in order to draw all the power of a great natural source towards you, effectively harnessing that power for your own use."

"Great natural source?" he repeated with a frown. "What does that mean?"

She shook her head, biting down on her lower lip. "I'm not really sure," she admitted chagrined. "The text is rather vague about that. It seems to assume that the reader of this ritual already knows what it is and merely needs this explanation to know how to set it up. As far as I can gather, this source seems to be like some kind of natural magical power source, like a rock or a tree; things that have been considered to contain magical powers since ancient times."

"Okay, I can guess why the four elements are used then," he mumbled, staring at the circle and the way the seven people were drawn around it with one person standing at the top right across the X. "But what position do the first two victims take up then? And let's say that psycho took Cora – what's her purpose in all of this? The first two victims died with no real connection to any nature element."

"Look at these symbols," she said and tapped on one which resembled some kind of animal with its fangs displayed in a display of fury. "One victim looked like she'd been mauled to death by an animal, right?"

"Yeah, the first one."

"And this one," she tapped on another person which simply had a sleeping, neutral face as symbol next to it," the second victim was stabbed."

"Yeah, with a knife. Nothing else was done to him. Where are you going with this?"

"They both represents our sides," she stated matter-of-factly. "One victim needs to die through an animal attack, because we're partly animal. The other victim dies by a human hand: our human side. Both sides keep each other in balance and both sides are needed in this ritual for that exact reason."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," he said and grimaced. "But what about Cora?"

"Here the text gets murky again," she sighed and rolled her shoulders. "It speaks of sacrificing the blood of someone tied to the natural source."

"But why would Cora be … The Hales own this land," he suddenly realised, shooting up again. Heart pounding, he stared at Lydia, whose eyes widened a touch in comprehension. "That's it, right? The Hales practically own this land, this town, so whatever this natural power source bullshit is, it stands to reason that the Hales would be tied to it because they've been here for so long!"

"The Hales are old blood," she whispered, tracing her finger across the circle. "It can't get better than that if you want to complete a ritual like this one."

"Shit, so they took her to drain her of her blood." He jumped up and started pacing back and forth, needing to do something to work off this restless energy. "I don't know what this person is planning to do with all this supposed power they'll gain after completing the ritual, but it can't be anything good."

The whole harnessing natural power for your own by killing people didn't seem like something a good person would do. What exactly they hoped to do with all this supposed power was anyone's guess, but it was more than clear that they had to be stopped before it would come to that. He really didn't want to find out what would happen if they were too late.

"Does it mention any particular time restrictions, certain moments that the ritual needs to be completed at?" He might not know much about magic, but he did know that most rituals seemed to work with time indications, like only performing them during a full moon or only on a particular day in a particular month and so on. If this ritual had a specific time indication as well, they might be able to figure out through that how much time they had left to find Cora and stop the ritual.

"Let me take a look," she murmured and scrolled down the page, mouthing the words soundlessly. "Six of the seven murders don't have a specific time indication, but the last one – which will also complete the ritual – has to happen on the night of a supermoon, as that will act as a conduct to channel the natural power more easily."

"A supermoon? I think they mentioned it on the news; isn't there supposed to be one soon?" he asked rhetorically, sitting down on the bed again and pulling his laptop on his lap. "Yeah, here, the next supermoon is scheduled for … next Saturday."

 _Fuck._

"Shit," Lydia echoed his thoughts troubled, leaning over his shoulder to stare at the news website with the article about the supermoon displayed prominently on top of it. "Next Saturday gives us only …. Shit."

It gave them only five days maximum to find Cora on time. Five days to find a missing girl and stop a dangerous ritual with no information whatsoever about the killer and where he could be hiding Cora.

Stiles didn't like their odds. At all.

* * *

 **AN2: Like I said, for some reason this chapter gave me a bit more trouble than the others. I hope it wasn't too bad overall!**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in my next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note: Still had to finish the chapter today, but hey at least I finished this one on time!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: out of control with OCs; Safieri; Almondweb; yukino76; babyvfan; Digidestined10**

 **Warnings: Stiles being snoopy and brief non-consensual kissing**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 14_

There was nothing to it: he'd have to inform his dad what he and Lydia had discovered. By doing that, he'd be admitting that he'd gone against his dad's rules and had got involved after all, but well, if admitting that meant raising the chances of bringing Cora home safe, he'd gladly accept whatever punishment his dad would come up with.

"Thanks, Lydia. You really helped me out with this!" he said gratefully, gathering their notes so that he could show them to his dad.

"I'm glad I could help," she said quietly, her forehead wrinkled with worry. She followed him downstairs and held the front door open. "Just get her back safely. Preferably before the ritual can be completed."

"That's the plan at least," he muttered, hurrying to his Jeep. He wasn't sure how much help their newly discovered information would be – especially since he still hadn't been able to find out what the significance of that tree stump could be – but every little bit of information would help, wouldn't it?

Maybe knowing what kind of ritual it was would help them narrow down the places where the murderer could be hiding out. It was worth a shot at least.

He still had around an hour before his dad would go home, so he went straight to the station. Unless his dad was out on a call, he should still be in his office. He didn't want to wait any longer than absolutely necessary, even if it would only be an hour at best.

Parrish looked up surprised when Stiles came practically flying into the station. "Oh hey, Stiles. You're looking for your dad?"

"Yeah, is he in his office?" Stiles asked, already making a beeline for it. The door of dad's office was ajar, which usually meant he was inside.

"Yep, you can just go in."

"Thanks, man."

"Stiles, is it already past seven?" Dad questioned bemused when he entered the room. When he looked down at his watch he frowned.

"Nope, not past seven yet. Don't worry, dad, I'm not here to scold you about tardiness," Stiles muttered, dumping all his notes on the desk in front of his dad. When he reached out to grab them, Stiles slammed his hand down on them and gave him a tight smile. "I need to talk to you about something and I know you're going to be mad and I kind of went against what you said, but it's for a good cause, I promise!"

Dad leant back in his chair, eyeing him warily. "Somehow I'm not sure whether you going against something I said can be for a good cause," he said slowly. "What did I say and what did you do?"

"You might have said that I wasn't allowed to stick my nose in the serial killer case," Stiles replied, keeping his gaze fixated on the ceiling so that he wouldn't have to see the dawning expression of disappointment on the older man's face. "And I might have still kept looking through the files anyway, even though I didn't actually go to the crime scene itself. So you know, I didn't completely disobey; I kept it to the written part of the investigation only."

"Stiles," Dad sighed.

He winced and looked down again, shuffling with the papers. "Look, I'll accept any punishment you'll give me, okay, no whining whatsoever – or well, like the very bare minimum at least – but you need to take a look at this, okay?"

"What is this?" Dad questioned, pressing his lips together. He was clearly mad that Stiles had gone against his direct order, but he was at least willing to listen, which was more than Stiles had hoped for honestly.

"I know you brought Deaton into this - "

"Wait, just how far did you go into those files?"

"So I know you already suspect the killer is setting up a ritual," Stiles continued, electing to not answer that particular question, "but I don't think you know what kind of ritual it is exactly, right? I couldn't find anything about that in the files."

"No, we don't," Dad confirmed sourly and rose up, leaning forwards to study the papers as Stiles spread them out. "Deaton said there were several rituals possible."

"Perhaps at the time when he was brought in, but I think we narrowed it down to the right one."

"When you're talking about 'we', who else are you talking about?"

Stiles waved his hand haphazardly through the air, nearly slapping dad's shoulder. "Not the point now, dad," he chided him and cleared his throat when dad threw him a warning look. "So, anyway, I found out that each murder victim can be linked to a specific element that is used in the ritual."

"With element you mean what exactly?" Dad inquired, studying the papers more intently now, picking up the one displaying the diagram.

"Well, you've got the four nature elements, which are the most obvious ones. The third victim was buried alive, and that's the element of earth," Stiles tapped at the symbol, "the fourth victim was set on fire, so obviously that's the fire element. The fifth victim - "

"Drowned and is connected to water," Dad realised, his eyes lightening up in comprehension. "The sixth victim was strangled – does that relate to air then?"

Stiles nodded and pointed at him. "Yes, exactly! The four elements of nature right there."

"All right, but the first two victims then. You mentioned every victim can be linked to an element – what kind of element is tied to being ripped apart by an animal and being stabbed to death?" Dad raised an eyebrow, staring dubiously at the symbols. "That doesn't have anything to do with nature, right? Unless nature somehow gained two elements overnight."

"Guess you could call it our nature," Stiles said, pursing his lips and remembering Lydia's explanation. "The animal attack refers to the part in us that's animal, that can shift. The attack with the knife – that's our human part. Animal and human are both needed to keep the balance. That balance is required for this ritual."

"Huh," Dad muttered and his narrowed gaze slid from one symbol to the next one as he mouthed something to himself. "That's actually the most reasonable explanation as to why they died that way that I've heard so far."

"It's the right reason as well," Stiles pointed out. "There's no other ritual that requires all those elements to be present."

"And what exactly does this ritual do? I take it, it's not something to conjure world peace," Dad said dryly, but a note of apprehension lurked in his voice.

The Omega grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. "No, it's not," he sighed. "The whole explanation was written in Latin, so it wasn't easy to decipher. I have to warn you that we're not completely sure about the meaning either, because again the explanation wasn't really clear about it. Seemed to assume that the user of the ritual would just know what it would do," he huffed annoyed.

"All right, just tell me what you think it is meant for."

"The ritual is apparently used to harness all the power of a 'great natural source'," Stiles finger quoted, "whatever the hell that means. We think it means that it will grant the ritual user all the power of a magical object and will let him yield that power how he sees fit. What that power is supposed to be used for, I don't have a clue, but it can't be anything good. We think the magical source in this case has to be literal natural, meaning some kind of rock or tree or hell, a hill or so with a long history of magic tied to it. I don't know where we could find a place like that here in Beacon Hills, though, because it's not like this town is that special and – dad?" he cut himself off when he caught a strange look passing the Alpha's face.

Dad stared at him blankly before shaking his head slightly. "No, nothing. Just thinking about something. Do you think Cora's abduction is tied to this?"

Stiles didn't buy the obvious diversion move, but he let it go for now, knowing he couldn't push his luck too much after already having disobeyed his dad with this. "We're pretty sure it is," he admitted and grimaced, wrapping his arms around his stomach. "The Hales have lived here since the beginning, right?"

"Yes, they were the first family to settle here after buying the land," Dad nodded, picking up another paper on which the victims and their causes of death had been listed. He wrinkled his nose and placed it back down, grabbing another sheet which outlined what they knew about the ritual. "I guess that counts as being here since the start of Beacon Hills. What has that got to do with Cora being kidnapped?"

"Well, again we're not completely sure because the Latin text wasn't easy to translate," he cautioned and went on when dad waved his hand, "but the ritual requires a blood sacrifice of someone tied to the natural source."

"Shit," Dad cursed, obviously having connected the dots instantly.

"Yeah," Stiles swallowed, staring at the symbol on the paper which stood for Cora's part in the ritual. "Whatever this natural source is, it stands to reason that the Hales would be tied to it, purely because they lived here first. I don't know whether there was a specific reason why Cora was kidnapped or whether it was just a case of being a Hale at the wrong time at the wrong place, but dad, they're going to steal her blood, probably drain her entirely. _She's going to die if we don't find her on time_."

A sudden wave of coldness washed over him, his previous excitement at telling his dad what he'd found evaporating instantly as reality smacked him harshly in his face again. This wasn't just a case he'd solved for fun, one where he didn't know the people involved personally. _Cora_ was involved in this, a girl he'd considered his friend, and that had ice settling in his veins.

Even if he was right about the ritual – and really, there was no other option, was there? Lydia was sure it was this one; if she was certain, then there really was no other ritual to consider – that still didn't help the case much. There were no clues hidden in the ritual about the place where the killer could be hiding, so it was still like searching a needle in a haystack.

He could be everywhere; there was no saying for certain that he was hiding in a particular part of town. Unless they somehow happened to walk right into the setting of the ritual, they were still basically stumbling around in the dark, completely blind.

A warm hand clasping his shoulder started him out of his dark thoughts and he gazed up with wide eyes at his dad, who offered him a grim, but reassuring smile.

"Then we just have to make sure we find her before the killer can try anything," he stated and it was in the authoritative tone of voice that never failed to calm Stiles down. Dad squeezed his shoulder and nodded at the papers strewn across his desk. "I don't know much about rituals, but most of them tend to work with a time frame, right? What kind of time frame are we looking at here?"

Taking a deep breath, Stiles shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the papers and not on the dark fear brewing in the pit of his stomach. "The six murders didn't have to be committed in a specific time frame, but the last part of the ritual – the one involving Cora – does have a time frame."

He walked over to the calendar hanging on the wall and tapped on the little square that highlighted the number seventeen. "This Saturday there's a supermoon and _that's_ the moment the ritual needs to be completed. According to the text, the supermoon will act as some kind of conduct to make the transfer of the power easier."

Which made a lot of sense actually now that he thought about it and normally that would fascinate him, but all he could think of when looking at the calendar in front of him, was just how little time there was left to save Cora.

"That gives us around five days at most to find her on time," Dad sighed, coming to a stop next to him.

Five days were long when you were following classes. Five days were super long when you were stuck at the hospital with nothing to do, bored out of your mind.

 _Five days were short when it came to rescuing someone._

"That's not a lot of time," Stiles remarked quietly.

"It's not," Dad agreed sombrely before squaring his shoulders and returning to his desk. "But that doesn't mean we can't try our hardest. I'm going to discuss this with the rest of the team and I'm going to call in Deaton tomorrow again, see if he can help narrow down the places now that we know which ritual is being planned."

"Should I get some food for us?" Stiles asked knowingly, recognising that look on dad's face.

It was a look that said he'd be here for a few more hours at least, working through the new information and linking it with what they already knew.

"Yeah, that's easier," Dad muttered before pointing at him. "And then you're going straight home. You've helped out a lot with this – despite the fact that I told you not to get involved in this – but it ends here, understood? I mean it, Stiles. I don't want you sneaking around, do you hear me?"

Hastily Stiles raised his hands in the air. "I won't sneak around, I swear! I just couldn't do nothing when one of my friends is in danger, you know? I had to do something."

Dad's face softened. "I know, and you've been a really great help with this, but you've done enough now. Leave the rest to us, okay?"

"Okay," Stiles sighed, knowing there wasn't anything he could do either way. Well, except for prowling around the crime scene in the hopes that the killer would return, but one, that would be a massively bad idea and two, encountering that creep there would mean Cora would be dead and no, just no. That wasn't a scenario he wanted to envision.

All he could do was hope that his information would be of some use to the corpse and that they would be able to locate the killer before it would be too late to save Cora.

* * *

Did this count as breaking and entering?

 _No_ , he reassured himself as he slowly slipped the key from the lock and pushed the door open. _It's hardly breaking and entering when you've got a key._

Sure, he'd copied the key from a completely oblivious Scott, but that was just a minor technicality. The point was, you couldn't officially break in somewhere when you had a key to the place.

That was what he told himself as he walked further into Deaton's darkened practice. He and Scott had a vet emergency in the next town and wouldn't be back for at least a couple of hours. That should give him ample time to look through Deaton's books and check whether he could find information about the mysterious tree stump in one of them.

Honestly he was still mad at himself that he hadn't thought about this earlier. He had spent nearly the entire day yesterday trying to find information about the stump in the field, but he'd come up empty each time. He'd been certain the dead tree had to have some kind of significance, though, especially when he recalled dad's face when he'd been talking about the natural source of the ritual.

Dad had looked way too knowing for someone claiming he'd been thinking about something else instead, but it wasn't like Stiles could expect any explanation now that he'd been officially shut out from the investigation – again.

He could actually hit himself for not making the link earlier than last night. The ritual spoke about a great natural source and something in him insisted that the dead tree had a particular significance and that was why the killer dumped his victims there every time. What kind of significance could the stump have if not being the actual natural source in question?

Granted it didn't really look like an amazing natural source to him, considering it'd been dead for years and something magical had to be alive in order to function, wouldn't it? But that was why he was here now, in Deaton's practice: to find answers to his questions.

If the tree was indeed the natural source the ritual spoke about, what was so great about it then? Why did it look dead when it was supposed to be magical? And what would happen to it when the ritual was completed?

All answers he hoped to find in the druid's books. Because where else was he supposed to find information about something magical and mysterious? Certainly not the local library.

With a soft snort, he walked into Deaton's office, where he knew the man kept all his non vet related books. He'd actually been itching for a while now to explore the books inside this room, but Deaton had so far refused to let him. One of the reason Stiles found him so very frustrating to deal with.

"All right." He looked around and clapped his hands together. "If I was Deaton and I had information about a dead tree in the middle of the Preserve, where would I store it?"

There were four bookcases lined in a row against the wall and every shelf was packed to the brim with all kinds of books; some looking so old, they'd probably fall apart if someone so much as touched them with a feather, while others looked brand-new, as if they'd been transported straight from the printing press to the shelves. Some had their spines bent while others had their title faded so thoroughly it was difficult to read what it had originally said.

There seemed to be no real reason in the way they'd been stacked onto the shelves either. Not like Stiles' books, which had been organised by author and then by title. No, here he could find one book about runes right next to one about creating wards. Books about talismans were stored right next to ones containing recipes of herb concoctions.

"I'm trying to find vital information here, Deaton, couldn't you organise your shit better?" he hissed annoyed, squatting down to peer at the books on the lower shelves. How the hell did the druid even find anything in here? There appeared to be no system whatsoever and he had to restrain himself from pulling every book from the shelf and reorganising them.

The goal was to read the books he needed and leave without anyone noticing he'd been here. He would hardly remain undetected if he completely reorganised every bookcase. Still, was it so freaking hard to just have a decent system in place?!

Drawing closer to the third bookcase, his attention was caught by a dark red book on the second to last shelf. Kneeling down on the floor, he pulled it from between the two thick books bracketing it and studied it. It bore no title and the cover felt soft, as if it was made of some sort of cloth. Velvet maybe? Curiosity piqued, he let it fall open on a random page and quickly discovered he was staring at one of Deaton's journals.

The spidery handwriting – one he'd seen before on documents signed off by the vet – filled the thick pages; the date neatly penned into the left corner when he'd started a new entry. Whoops, he hadn't expected to find the older man's journals and went to close it when a line at the top of a page snagged his interest.

' _The Nemeton continues to deteriorate since her death.'_

Intrigued, Stiles sat down, resting the journal in his lap. Nemeton? What the hell was that? Why would it deteriorate because someone had died? Who had died and why would their death affect whatever the hell a Nemeton was?

The large spat of shame of reading someone's journal left him as he settled against the desk to read on, wanting to find out more.

' _Whilst not completely gone, it appears to have fallen into a slumber. The power within it has withdrawn itself and no matter what I offer, it is reluctant to appear. Perhaps it is in mourning?_

 _I spoke to Talia about it this morning and we both reached the decision to not do anything for the time being. Whilst the Nemeton is no longer in an active state, neither does it appear to have completely withdrawn the protection it offers to the town. The Elemental Fox has been dead for four months, so whilst perhaps it is too early to say for certain that the slumber won't affect the protective wards, Talia and I agreed that the Hales' ties to the land will be enough to make up for the absence of the active Nemeton._

 _The Hales live in the Preserve so if any changes in the Nemeton occur, they'll be alerted immediately. For now we have decided to let it rest. Perhaps in time, the Nemeton will restore itself.'_

Frowning, Stiles flipped through the previous pages, but Deaton never mentioned the actual name of this ' _Elemental Fox_ '. What even was an Elemental Fox? Was it something special like a druid? What kind of powers did it have over this Nemeton that its death caused it to worsen?

The journal was dated several years ago and after that one entry, Deaton only sparsely mentioned the Nemeton again. Always the same update: no change whatsoever detected in the slumbering Nemeton.

What was the Nemeton? Was it something in the Preserve, given the remark that the Hales lived there? Shit, even in his own journals Deaton was enigmatic as fuck. Would it kill the guy to just be straightforward for once in his life?

Frustrated he went to close the journal again when a glimpse of a drawing suddenly flashed past. Quickly he leaved through the pages again, wanting to know what Deaton had drawn in his journal.

It was a drawing of a tree. A decaying tree to be exact, looking like something had taken a huge bite from the top of it. Above the picture, Deaton had written, ' _Nemeton, two months after the Elemental Fox's death_ '. The drawing was quite detailed, even the background accompanying it, and there was just something so familiar about it … Like he'd seen it before, like he'd actually been there …

Realisation hit him like a sledgehammer and he took a quick picture of the drawing before stuffing it back on the shelf and hightailing it out of there, barely remembering to lock the door behind him again.

He needed to check something. He thought that maybe … He had to know for sure. Because if he was right, he might just have found their mysterious natural source.

* * *

Panting, he skidded to a stop and quickly retrieved his phone from his pocket. His lungs were burning, his legs felt like rubber and the warm sun didn't do much in helping him cool down, but he paid no attention to those things.

All his focus was aimed on the picture and the tree in front of him. The pathetic stump which had made him ponder occasionally how it hadn't rotten away completely yet after all those years.

The stump which had once been a flourishing tree around which he and his mother had chased each other.

The tree stump which now stared back at him from both the picture on his phone and right in front of him.

 _The tree stump was the Nemeton._

Whatever the Nemeton really was – some kind of magical guardian, a place that stored magic, whichever it was – he was certain that he was looking at it now. The stump looked more decayed than the one on the picture, but there was no mistaking the intricate background matching the one in real life or the way the roots peeked through the forest floor in that weird, twisted manner.

The Nemeton was the tree stump in front of him and the killer wanted to draw whatever power was stored inside of it. There was no doubt about that.

"Holy shit," he breathed out amazed and abruptly sat down, his knees knocking against the ground; some sticks poking his skin through his jeans.

"So you're the great natural source the ritual is talking about!"

Of course the tree stump didn't answer him, but he just knew. Something inside of him told him he was right when he stared at the stump, at the gnarly roots poking slightly through the earthy blanket.

He had found the power source of the ritual. Now what could he do about it?

His phone ringing had him jumping nearly three feet in the air and he'd accepted the call without checking the screen, which turned out to not be such a great idea when Theo's voice filled his ear.

"Where are you? I thought we'd agreed to meet up at the diner before we would go bowling," he said; his voice nearly drowned out by the voices of the diners in the background.

Shit, was it that late already? Scrambling upwards, sending some dirt flying, Stiles hastily turned around and started making his way back to his car.

"Yeah sorry, went for a walk in the Preserve and lost track of time," he answered clipped, his heart pounding in his chest for a whole other reason now.

Fuck, he'd completely forgotten that he was supposed to meet up with Theo today. He still hadn't found a way to get out of this mess because he'd been too distracted with the case and it wasn't like Theo had given him much choice to refuse.

The reminder had him clenching his jaw and for a brief moment he contemplated just running away, shifting and just keep on running through the woods, leaving all of this shit behind. Then he remembered his dad, Scott, Lydia, the Hales and he knew he couldn't do that. Not as long as he didn't have an actual plan to deal with Theo.

"No problem, I'll come pick you up."

Before Stiles could protest, saying he had his car here, Theo had hung up and he cursed loudly, clenching his hand around his phone. Fuck him. As soon as Cora was back, he'd find a way to deal with that son of a bitch, even if that was the last thing he'd do.

* * *

Stiles just left the cover of the last trees when Theo's car slowed down to a stop on the road, a couple of feet away from him. Reluctantly he turned away from his Jeep and walked over to the other car, the door of the passenger's side already being pushed open for him from the inside.

"I have my car here, you know," he said stiffly and stepped inside, slamming the door harder than was required. He was pissed off, okay, because now he had to deal with Theo for at least a couple of hours when all he wanted to do was race to the precinct and confront his dad with what he'd just discovered.

He stiffened when a hand cupped his jaw and turned his head forcefully around, so he ended up looking at the bastard's face.

Theo smiled, his eyes glinting, and said teasingly, "I know, but mine is less likely to break down suddenly." He winked and then kissed Stiles full on his mouth, his fingers tightening warningly at the same time.

Stiles couldn't pull back even if he wanted to. He sat there frozen, letting Theo kiss him, but the punishing grip on his face was unnecessary. Even without it, he doubted he would have been able to move.

Because he could smell it. It was vague, barely noticeable as if he'd taken a thorough shower before meeting up with him, but it was unmistakably there, lingering on the Alpha's skin. A scent he was quite familiar with, even if he had more interaction with other members of the family. A scent which had his blood turning into ice, his stomach churning, his anger turning into horror and his heart hammering madly.

 _Cora's scent._

* * *

 **AN2: Ooooh, whatever will happen now? :P That's for you to guess and for me to know XD Also, I'll be taking some liberties with the whole Nemeton part, so you know *waves hands***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note: My life's pretty hectic now, so I still had to finish the chapter today. For future reference: it can happen that a chapter ends up being posted later, but that's because I've been too busy that week then to finish the chapter on time. Just know that I'm working on this story - and other projects - as much as I can; sometimes I just succeed better in making progress than other times.**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Digidestined10; out of control with OC's; Almondweb; babyvfan**

 **Warnings: Hm, nothing in particular, I think.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 15_

Somehow Stiles managed not to give anything away during the entire time he was with Theo. He wished he'd just imagined Cora's scent clinging to that son of a bitch, but no, he would recognise that scent everywhere.

Theo had Cora.

Either him abducting her was for a personal reason, like a vendetta against the Hales – but what kind of vendetta could he have when the only interaction between him and a Hale had happened with Derek and he'd emerged as the 'winner' in that one? _Or_ he was the one conducting the ritual, the one who'd killed those six people and was planning on killing Cora next.

Stiles didn't know which option scared him the most. He couldn't just leave it like that, however. If Theo had Cora, no matter the reason, he needed to save her. The only problem was: how? He should go to his dad with the information, he knew, even if the information was nothing more than the barest hint of a scent, but what after that? They could ask for a warrant to search Theo's house, but what if she wasn't there? What if he'd hidden her somewhere else?

Somehow he very much doubted Theo would just spill the beans if he was interrogated by the police. They couldn't hold him indefinitely, especially when he refused to talk. They would need solid evidence for that, but they would have to find that first. Once Theo was free again, Stiles feared what he would do next. He'd been more than clear what would happen if Stiles went against him again. The memory of tires screaming and steel being crushed was still too fresh and Stiles opened his eyes with a shudder, staring at his laptop screen.

After Theo had dropped him off at his home, he'd immediately called Erica to give him a ride to her place. She'd been understandably confused, considering he'd left her place with his car and had growled when he'd explained what had happened. She'd offered to drive him to his car in the morning, so that he could pick it up.

He'd worry about something happening to his precious Jeep, but well, even he wasn't blinded enough by adoration to know that his car was considered junk in the eyes of other people. His Jeep would be safe at the edge of the forest and while she might act up in the morning when he started her, he knew he didn't have to worry about anyone vandalising her.

So here he was now in the room which he'd made his own over the course of a couple of weeks, trying to figure out what he could do to save Cora. He couldn't risk his dad's life before he had any actual solid evidence as to where Theo had hidden her. Without that, Theo wouldn't be locked up for long and he wasn't ready yet to find out what would happen when Theo truly got pissed off.

The only thing he could do at this point, he figured, was check Theo's house first. Wherever he'd hidden her, it was a place he'd visited before coming to pick him up, so it stood to reason that his house could be the place where Cora was kept. He knew the address and could drive to it anytime he wanted, but how would he explain his presence? He could ask Theo whether they could hang out at his place, he supposed, but that wouldn't really give him any leeway to inspect the rooms. Theo would start asking questions if Stiles insisted on looking through each room.

The only way to search his house was without the Alpha being present, but that was also a huge risk to take. He didn't know that bastard's schedule, couldn't even guess what he was up to when he didn't insist on seeing Stiles – well, aside from apparently murdering people and setting up a ritual, of course. But Stiles didn't think that the ritual filled up all his time, so that still gave him quite some time that would either have him out of the house or stay at home.

He couldn't risk going into Theo's home, only for the man to show up unexpected. He might be excelling in the art of bullshitting, but he doubted he'd be able to explain his presence without Theo getting suspicious.

Fuck, what could he do? In order for the police to detain him, they needed solid evidence – Cora herself alive preferably – and to get that solid evidence, the house needed to be checked first, just in case she was there. No real evidence and Theo would walk free.

If he could just be sure that he could walk around the house freely for at least an hour if not more, without worrying that Theo would come home, that'd be great. The problem was: how to assure himself of that safe timeframe? Something would need to keep Theo occupied for at least a while, but what could possibly –

Wait. There was a way to ensure that Theo would be detained for a while, but … Did he really want to drag her into this? Gnawing at his lower lip, he glanced at his phone, which was resting right next to him on the bed. He wanted to keep his friends out of this whole mess with Theo, because they definitely didn't serve being tangled up in this shit. She was his only chance, however, at actually having a shot to search through Theo's house without the Alpha interrupting him.

"Shit, don't have much choice," he hissed and snatched his phone from the mattress, scrolling through his contacts to find her name.

She picked up at the second ring. "This better be good, Stiles, because I was just about to get into a nice, relaxing bath," Lydia warned him primly.

"Does helping me find Cora sound good enough?"

That got her attention. "You know where she is?" she asked urgently; the hint of a growl leaving her voice.

"I've got a strong suspicion, yes," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But I need to confirm that first before I can tell my dad and I need your help with that."

"My legal or illegal help?" she inquired, not sounding particularly bothered by the latter option, which should probably be a bit concerning, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that now.

"You'd be doing the legal part of the plan," he said and cleared his throat. "Although, of course, it's not like my part will be that highly illegal, you know. Just a bit on the illegal side. Like just a smidgen."

"Just don't get caught."

"That's actually why I need your help," he said, chuckling weakly.

She paused. "Tell me your plan. The whole plan," she added warningly.

"I will, but I need you to just be quiet and listen, all right?" he said, taking a deep breath.

"I'm not going to like whatever you're going to tell me, huh?" she said quietly.

"No, you probably won't. Which is why I need you to not to do anything stupid," he warned her. Out of the two of them, he was the more impulsive one, yes, but he was worried how she'd react once he told her of his suspicions. As much as he would like to see her raise hell – and by god, that would be a glorious sight to behold, he was sure – he didn't want her to be in danger.

If he could have left her out of this, he would have, but he didn't have much choice.

"When have I ever done anything stupid?" she shot back and he could imagine her arching her eyebrow in that condescending way of hers that never failed to make the recipient of it feel like a worthless bug.

"Never, but what I'm going to tell you is pretty bad," he said and closed his laptop, shoving it to the end of the bed for now.

"I promise not to do anything stupid," she said impatiently. "Now tell me: where do you think Cora is, what do you need me to do, and how bad is it overall."

"I think Theo has her."

His confession was met with silence. If he couldn't hear her soft breathing on the other end of the phone, he would have thought she'd disappeared. She said nothing for a moment and uncomfortably he shifted around until he ended up with his back braced against the wall and the sheets twisted around his ankles.

"Why do you think that?" Her voice was flat, almost monotone even.

"He took me out for bowling tonight and when he – got close enough," he couldn't bring himself to say ' _kiss_ ', because the memory of it alone was enough to leave an awful taste behind and made him want to brush his teeth all over again, "I could smell Cora on him. Her scent wasn't that strong, more like a faint whiff even, but it's something - "

"We need to look into, I agree," she said clipped. "You said you needed my help; where do you think he's keeping Cora?"

"My best guess at this moment is his house," he answered, sucking his lower lip between his teeth for a few seconds. "I want to go in there and search for her or at least try to see if I can find anything that would lead us to her whereabouts."

"And you need me to distract that son of a bitch," she concluded briskly.

"Yeah, I hate to ask this of you, but I don't know his schedule and I'd rather not be caught while searching through his home," he said sourly.

"You getting caught would definitely not be a good outcome," she said primly. "How much time do you need?"

"At least one hour, two if you can manage it," he said slowly, rapping his fingers against his knee. He hadn't exactly thought about how much time he would need, but a window of two hours max should be enough, shouldn't it? "You think you can give me that?"

"Of course I can, leave that up to me," she said decisively. "Have you told your dad about this?"

"No," he admitted begrudgingly. "He'd want to arrest Theo as soon as possible and while I would be absolutely jumping in joy if that happened, they can't hold him for long if they don't have any solid proof that he has Cora."

"You think he's the one conducting those rituals? That that's why he needs Cora?" she questioned quietly.

He swallowed and licked his lips. "I think that if he has Cora, there's a strong possibility he's the killer the police has been searching for months now, yeah."

"If he's the murderer, then going into his house could be very dangerous, Stiles."

"I know, but do you have any other idea how to get proof of his involvement with Cora's abduction?" he snapped, lashing out harsher than he intended to. "Because if so, I'm all ears! If we want to see him behind bars, we need some serious proof and just a whiff of scent won't be enough. Especially not if she isn't even in his house! Then we're back to square one and he'll do – " he cut himself off before he could reveal more than he had planned on.

He wasn't ready yet to tell her that Theo had been the one to mess with his suppressants and had even assaulted him during his forced heat. Didn't want to confess that Theo would be forcing him to continue their ' _relationship_ ' unless he wanted something bad to happen to his family and friends if Stiles couldn't find something to strike against him safely.

If he told her all that, she'd fly into a fury and would probably try to kill Theo. She'd bring herself into danger because of him and he couldn't allow that to happen. All he needed to do was find Cora or at least a clue as to where she could be hidden and that would end everything.

Theo would be gone, he'd be free, Cora would be safe and he could finally live his life like he wanted to: studying at university, start a relationship with Derek and just be happy in general.

He could forget all the shit that had happened the past couple of months or at least ignore it hard enough that he wouldn't think about it anymore. Ignoring something until it eventually went away – that was his personal motto.

"I can guarantee you one hour. I'm going to try to give you two, but I can't promise that," she said brusquely. "And I need you to keep your phone with you at all times. When I call you, you need to get the hell out of that house, no matter what you found, you understand me? Immediately, Stiles. I mean it. I don't want to tell your dad why you were at the house of a murderer and didn't leave despite me telling you so!"

"I swear I'll leave the second you call me," he promised.

"No matter what you find?"

"No matter what I find. You call, I'm out of there, I promise," he said solemnly. "You've got an hour in mind that you're calling him away? I'll go to his house by that hour then, so that I won't waste too much time."

"Be there by ten; I'll make sure he leaves then. And Stiles, don't do anything stupid." With that clipped remark she ended the call.

He lowered his phone with a wince, getting the feeling that he would get an earful from her at a later date. She had agreed to help him without too much fuss, but he didn't think she would just let it go like this. That wouldn't be her, especially not when it concerned something as serious as this.

That was something to be concerned about in the future, though. For now he would just worry about getting into Theo's house without the man knowing about it.

Most of all, though, he worried about what exactly he was going to find there.

* * *

Theo lived rather secluded at the edge of the town with his small garden bordering against the woods. Stiles considered that to be some kind of lucky break, because it allowed him to remain hidden behind the trees while he waited for Lydia to get Theo out of his house. As he waited there, keeping an eye on the driveway next to the house, he started gnawing at a hangnail on his thumb.

For the umpteenth time this morning he wondered whether he shouldn't call his dad after all, tell him his suspicions and leave it up to him. Searching through the house of a suspected abductor slash killer was definitely more the work of the police than of a future university student. Dad would believe him, he was sure. He'd believed his explanation about the ritual and how Cora might tie into that, so he would believe him about Theo too.

What if they didn't find anything in the house, though? Theo wasn't stupid; he'd know who'd sent the police after him. Stiles still had yet to figure out how Theo had managed to land his dad in an accident – an accomplice most likely, but that accomplice still hadn't been found – so he most definitely didn't want to find out what Theo was capable of doing if the police tried to detain him without actually having real proof.

So in the end it would be up to him to gather the necessary evidence to get that sleezy bastard thrown behind bars.

 _Fuck, let there be something in this house …_

He'd tried sniffing the air when he had just arrived, to see whether he could pick up Cora's scent here, but all he could smell were the regular scents of the woods, the animals wandering through the trees like ghosts and the chemical scent of the asphalt after it had rained last night. The lack of scent didn't mean anything of course. He could have brought her into the house from the street side and scents never lasted that long anyway. If she'd been inside this entire time, naturally her scent would have faded away already.

That meant he would definitely have to get inside the house, though, if he wanted to find even the slightest clue as to where she could be right now.

At exactly ten o'clock – he checked his phone – Theo appeared in the driveway, heading to his car. Even with the distance between them, Stiles saw he looked bemused as he slid behind the wheel. Whatever Lydia had told him, it had been convincing enough to get him out of the house.

 _Yes, I knew I could count on you!,_ he thought, a sliver of excitement slithering through his body as he waited impatiently for Theo to leave.

When the sound of the car started fading away, he shot out of the woods and hurried to the back door. At most he would have one hour to search the house from top to bottom so he would have to make it count.

Praying that Theo hadn't installed any alarms, he got an old hairpin out of his pocket and started to work quickly on the lock after trying the doorknob. Obviously Theo would lock his doors, especially if he had something to hide, but Stiles wasn't a sheriff's son for nothing and it only took him thirty seconds to unlock the door and slip inside.

He ended up in a small kitchen and a quick look around told him he wouldn't find much here. There were some notes pinned on a bulletin board, but those turned out to be nothing but phone numbers of some local take out places and a grocery list.

Dismissing the kitchen he walked into the short hallway, opening the first door he encountered. That turned out to lead to a simple broom closet with regular cleaning supplies. It didn't really look like a place where one could hide somebody, so he closed that door and went on to the next one.

That door opened into a living room with some bookcases, a large television, two armchairs and a small couch. The books were just some sci-fi novels, with a couple of historic dramas thrown into the collection; nothing indiscriminating there. A look underneath the dark blue rug revealed no hidden ledges. He went through the small stack of magazines, but didn't expect anything from that; he doubted Theo would put information about rituals or his victims between some magazines about games and nature inspired ones.

The living room being a bust as well, he left it and closed the door again, making sure everything was in place like before. There was another door a couple of feet in front of the staircase but it had a complicated lock and when he tried the door knob, it didn't budge. He stood there for a few seconds, wavering and biting his lip. The presence of the extra lock seemed to indicate that there was something important there – maybe even Cora?

Should he chance wasting time on trying to open the door instead of checking the other floors? A part of him believed that this door hid something that could lead to Theo being busted, but … What if he was wrong? What if he wasted time trying to open the damn lock when upstairs the actual proof was hidden?

"Shit," he hissed quietly, glaring at the door. He felt torn, a part of him wanting to work on the lock here while another part told him it would be smarter to check upstairs first.

Checking the time he had around forty minutes left of the first hour. Depending on the amount of rooms upstairs that would either be enough to go back to this door or it wouldn't be. Was he going to risk …

Fuck it. Swiftly he turned around and carefully ascended the stairs, the wood releasing the occasional soft creak underneath his weight. He would do a quick but thorough check upstairs and then he'd hurry back to that door and see if he could pick the lock. That way he'd cover all his bases.

As he set foot on the landing, he couldn't supress a wave of unease which washed over him all of a sudden. There was just something about how silent the house was that set his teeth on edge and made him have the ridiculous urge to start shouting and talking loudly to himself just to fill up the space with some noise. There was the soft humming that all electric stuff gave off, of course, but that was about it. The heavy silence seemed to press down on him as he went from the bathroom to a plain bedroom to a study.

Theo's laptop was on the desk here, but of course it was password protected and he didn't have the time to start guessing it. For a few seconds he debated about calling Danny, but one, he was already involving Lydia in this, no need to involve even more people and two, even if Danny would be willing to come over, that would take him far too long. Time that Stiles didn't really have right now.

So even though there was a good chance there was something interesting saved on that laptop, he left it behind, not wanting to lose any more time than he already had. If he found some kind of proof, dad could get a warrant for that laptop anyway.

There wasn't any sort of attic so with the upper floor examined completely – and finding absolutely nothing, because naturally that was his shit luck – he went downstairs again, frustration brewing in him.

His only chance at finding real proof was behind the door with the lock and he had exactly, he pulled out his phone again, thirteen minutes to pick the lock and examine whatever was in there before his guaranteed hour would be over. Thirteen minutes wasn't a lot when he studied the heavy lock more carefully and realised to his great frustration that it would take him several minutes to figure out how to pick the lock – if he even managed to pick it.

Lydia had promised she'd try to keep Theo there for two hours, but he couldn't allow himself to count on that. When she called, he needed to get out of here immediately; she would kill him if he didn't, he was sure.

So how was he going to do this? Take a leap and try to pick the lock anyway? It was the only room in the house he hadn't searched yet and also the only one which had such a heavy lock on the door. That had to mean something, didn't it? Whatever was in there, Theo considered it serious enough to keep it locked up tightly.

Nodding to himself, he grabbed the locket and started working on it carefully with the pin, bending it into different shapes to see which one would fit the best. He hadn't found any keys laying around the house, so unless Theo had hidden them very well, he must kept all his keys with him at all times. Which was very fucking frustrating because that damn lock wasn't giving in, no matter what he tried.

Sweat started to prickle the back of his neck as the seconds ticked by and he still didn't get closer to picking the lock. He couldn't pick up any sounds from behind the door either, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Most rooms were soundproofed, because of their super hearing; most people weren't interested in knowing what the other person was doing or saying at all times in their home.

At this moment, though, Stiles cursed the soundproofing companies to hell and back. Without them, he might actually have been able to discern whether someone was stuck behind this door.

"Fuck this all to hell!" he snarled, letting the lock drop back loudly against the door when he released it. Running his hands through his hair, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, forcing himself to take steady breaths. Losing it now wouldn't help him at all.

The lock refused to budge, though, so what was he going to do now? He couldn't leave this place without at least knowing what was behind this door. What if Cora was indeed there? He'd forever hate himself for having been so close, but not having been able to make any real difference for her.

What could he do, though? The lock remained firmly on the door, the pin didn't work, there were no keys inside the house …

How much time did he even have left? The numbers on his phone had his stomach doing a nasty flip: four minutes of the initial first hour.

 _Shit._

If he only had four minutes left, what else could he do? Was there maybe another way to get into the room aside from the padlocked door? There was a staircase on one side and no other rooms on the other side of the door, so he couldn't bank on another door connecting this room with another one. So that option was out.

What else … His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes when he thought about the outside of the house. When he'd arrived here, he had made a large circle around the building, taking in where the windows where and how many doors led outside, just in case he was forced to make a quick getaway. He remembered seeing a small window near the ground, thinking it must lead to some kind of basement. Where exactly was that window again?

He closed his eyes and stood completely still, recalling the layout of the house. He'd been looking at the backdoor before he'd gone to the right of it. He'd spotted one window on the upper floor and when he'd looked down, he'd seen the smaller window at ground level. The window upstairs had turned out to be one in the study and the study was right –

 _Above the room with the locked door._

His eyes snapped open and he practically raced out of the house, barely remembering to close the door behind him. He practically skidded on the ground when he rounded the corner, kicking up dirt, nary keeping himself from slipping and falling down.

 _ **There!**_

Panting, he stopped right in front of the small window and stared down at it; his heartbeat loud in his ears. He hadn't thought of looking inside when he'd been here earlier, figuring he would search the room when he got into the house. The one time he should have given in to his curiosity …

 _Well, here goes nothing_ , he thought, his heart pounding as he lowered himself down, lying flat on his stomach. He crawled closer to the window and pressed his face against it, peering inside.

The room was rather dark, but the daylight creeping inside allowed him to see a couple of steps of a staircase – probably the one that led to the door – a sturdy table with a bunch of tools on top of it and …

A pair of brown eyes – darker than his own – met his before they flashed golden. They belonged to a figure mostly hidden in the shadows but he had no issues seeing the heavy shackles acting as a restraint.

Gold flashed again in fear and he felt faint all of a sudden.

 _He'd found Cora._

* * *

 **AN2: Does this count as a cliffhanger? I honestly don't know *throws hands up***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter! Shit's about to go down in that one *hums***

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note: I'm not entirely happy with the latter half of the chapter. It's like my brain had one thing in mind, but couldn't actually translate it decently onto paper =_= I hope it doesn't suck too badly!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: out of control with OC's; Almondweb; babyvfan; yukino76**

 **Warnings: Hm, something akin to violence? I don't even know how to word it to be honest**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 16_

There was no way he could leave her behind. Not when he'd finally found her. How would he get to her, though? The staircase was obviously out of the question, considering he hadn't been able to pick the lock. That only left the window.

Apprehensively he eyed the glass and wondered just how thick it was. It looked big enough for him to fit through, but the thickness of the glass could be a deal breaker. He had to try, though. He'd come this far; he wasn't going to let some glass hold him back.

Glad he had got into the habit of wearing several layers if the weather allowed for it, he rose up on his knees and removed his hoodie, leaving him in a thin shirt. He wrapped it around his right arm before he shuffled backwards a bit. He studied the window again before he pulled back his right leg, adjusted his stance and then slammed his foot against the glass with all the strength he could put into the kick. A small crack was left in the wake of it.

It took three more forceful kicks before the glass finally gave away and shattered apart; the pieces clattering down into the room loudly. He winced and looked around before remembering that the house was rather secluded and the chances of someone having heard the noise were slim to none.

With his hoodie covered arm he pushed the remaining shards out of the window before wriggling through it and dropping down onto the floor, bending his knees to cushion his fall. He might heal on his own, yeah, but he didn't particularly fancy cutting himself open on sharp glass. He wasn't that good with blood.

"Are you an idiot?" Cora's voice was raspy, rough, as if she'd done nothing but scream for hours on end until her voice gave out.

The likelihood of that possibility made his skin crawl and he stood up, shrugging on his hoodie quickly. "Nice seeing you too," he huffed. "One would think you don't want to be rescued."

"Do you even realise who's behind this?" Her eyes were luminous, even with the lack of decent light.

He offered her a thin smile. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm very well aware of what kind of a sick bastard he actually is. Lydia and I worked that out a few days ago."

"Then why are you here?" she growled and winced, her hand jerking as if she wanted to rub over her throat before she realised she couldn't lower it that far.

"To get you out of here before he's back and to collect proof for my dad," he answered and approached her, studying the shackles intently.

"No, why are you here alone?" she asked and even in this situation with her in this position, she sounded exasperated with him. Good to know some things never changed. "If you and Lydia figured it out, why the hell did you come here alone? Why not bring back-up, you idiot?"

"Because I wasn't sure whether I would find you here," he replied impatiently, testing the strength of the shackles. "I caught your smell on him, but I couldn't know for sure whether he kept you here or somewhere else. I couldn't bring my dad or any of the deputies, because they need a warrant for that and to get that, they need proof. I don't know about you, but I doubt Theo's going to talk willingly."

"You're still a fucking idiot," she muttered, pursing her lips together. "If he finds you here and kills you, it's going to be your own damn fault."

"Yeah well, he's not going to find me here, because Lydia's keeping him occupied," he retorted, faking a cheerful tone. "Our plan is for me to find you and get you out of here and for her to keep Theo occupied for as long as possible."

"And how are you going to get me out of here?" She quirked an eyebrow. "He keeps the keys with him at all times."

This close to her, he could spot traces of dried blood across her right temple running down her cheek to her neck. He couldn't immediately see any other signs of injuries, but that didn't mean much.

"I'll figure something out," he said determined and took a step back.

The shackles on her arms were bolted into the wall behind her, while the ones around her legs – much shorter than the ones on the wall – pressed her limbs in a curled position flat against the floor.

He would either need to find a way to undo the two locks or break the shackles somehow. Considering how sturdy they looked like, he fervently hoped that he would have more success picking these locks than he had with the one on the door.

"If he comes back, you need to leave," she said, her mouth thinning as she watched him contemplate the locks. "I mean it, Stiles. No need for us both to be in deep shit."

"We're both going to leave. Together," he said firmly, shaking his head when she went to protest. "You're insane if you think I'm leaving you here behind. I prefer you alive instead of being the final piece to his ritual."

"Who's the insane one here?" she hissed, narrowing her eyes. "You arrived here alone! What kind of fucking idiot goes into the house of a killer without any back-up?"

"We can argue about semantics later," he said dismissively and pulled the hairpin out of his pocket. "First, let's get you out of here."

He decided to go for the lock near her arms first and began fiddling with it, twisting and turning the hairpin around in it, trying to find the right direction. He thought he might actually manage these locks with just a bit of time, but he had to be careful with how he held it in his hand. There was a sticky residue smeared along the sides of the lock, a residue he'd noticed was sticking to the shackles around Cora's wrists and ankles too, and the nauseating, sweet scent informed him it was some type of Wolfsbane.

That explained why, even though the locks were a bit less complicated than the one on the door, Cora hadn't been able to work herself free yet. Wolfsbane was poisonous for them, though one type was less lethal than the other one. He guessed Theo had gone for a type that would weaken Cora enough without actually killing her – at least not yet. Still, the quicker she was out of these shackles, the better. Even in the dim light he could see how red and burnt her wrists had become; the skin slowly being dissolved by the Wolfsbane.

He was almost there, just a few more twists, when buzzing in his pocket startled him and he cursed loudly, dropping the lock. He hissed when his thumb brushed along the Wolfsbane, his skin tingling before he hastily wiped it off on his jeans. The buzzing continued and he hastily pulled his phone out, dread filling him when Lydia's name glared back at him.

"Yeah?"

"He left," she said abruptly, agitation audible in her voice. "Stiles, I tried to keep him here for longer, but he said he couldn't, because he needed to go back home to prepare a surprise for you before your visit today. You need to leave now!"

"My visit?" he muttered confused. "We're not planning on meeting today."

"Well, either he just fobbed me off with that excuse or he somehow knows you're there!" she snapped, but her anger couldn't disguise the note of hysteria she was trying to supress. "Stiles, get out of there now!"

"I will, I promise, I'm nearly done; I just need a few more minutes and then Cora and I will be out of here," he promised and hastily stuck the hairpin back inside the lock.

"What? No! You promised! You need to leave now! Stiles, you can't - !"

He broke off the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket, focusing his attention back on the lock. There was a slight tremble in his fingers, his stomach churning uncomfortably, but he paid no mind to that. He still had time. He just need to remain calm, because panic wouldn't help them at all right now. Just stay calm, pick the lock, free Cora and get out of here.

"He's coming," Cora said calmly, as if she was talking about a friend and not her future killer. "You need to go now."

"Nope, I'm not leaving here without you," he said, jiggling the hairpin. "We still have time. I can do this."

"Stiles, just leave. You've got proof I'm here now; you can go to your dad with it and you can come back later," she sighed.

"Look," he briefly glanced down at her before looking at the lock again, "if he does somehow know I'm here – fuck, maybe I tripped an alarm or so – then we're screwed either way. He's not going to give me enough time to get my dad here. If he knows I'm here, the first thing he'll do is move you away and then we're back to square one."

 _Even worse_ , he thought, his stomach flipping nauseatingly, _he'll do something to my dad as punishment for me trying to get you free._

"Like hell am I going to leave you here. We're going to get out of here and get you to safety. I swear that – aha!" he ended triumphantly, hearing the lock click when it finally unlocked and Cora's arms abruptly dropped down, the shackles falling off her. "See, one down, only one more - "

"Stiles, watch out!" she yelled alarmed.

He whipped around, caught sight of something flashing as it shot straight through the air, and jerked back instinctively. He wasn't fast enough and the thing cut his cheek, barely missing his eye before it slammed into the wall and dropped down. Searing hot pain exploded and he hissed, pressing his hand against the throbbing cut before pulling it back slightly.

Nausea filled him at the sight of blood smeared across his fingers. "Wow, he really doesn't trust anyone, huh?" he said faintly, his gaze going from his reddish fingers to the object lying on the floor next to his foot.

A small knife. Theo had somehow managed to link a trap to the lock and Stiles had triggered it by accident. Had Theo suspected that someone might discover his ritual after all and get into his house? He must have, because why else bother going through the trouble rigging a trap to a lock, just in case someone might try to free his victim?

There was a very thin line of black coating the blade of the knife and he swallowed, kicking it away in a corner.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Cora asked worriedly, her eyes widening a notch when she caught the cut on his face.

Keeping quiet about what might be possibly coating the knife, he forced a smile on his face and stepped over her legs to get to the other lock. "Yeah, just a cut. I'll be fine. Let's get you out of these now, okay? Any other traps I should know about?"

He had managed to avoid being impaled by this knife, but he didn't fancy trying out his luck twice in a short time. Especially because time was something they were steadily running out of now.

Slowly she shook her head, casting a nervous look around the room. "No, I – I don't think so. I didn't even know that trap was there," she admitted, chagrined with herself. "He must have done that when I was passed out."

"Hey, it's fine," he reassured her and got to work on the second lock. "You warned me on time anyway. Just, you know, keep a look out when I pick this lock, just in case he put up a second trap."

She nodded, her eyes gliding from one corner of the room to the other one constantly. She was exuding nervousness; the emotion strong enough to override the dark stench of pain and misery which had been clinging to her until now.

Being able to feel how nervous she was, did nothing to help his own nerves. The cut on his cheek was still throbbing; the burning sensation slowly spreading out. A headache was building up and he had to blink rapidly several times when his vision wavered a bit. He didn't know what kind of strain of Wolfsbane had been coating the knife and he wanted to get out of here before the poison had the chance to spread throughout his entire body.

Already his right cheek was a strange combination of throbbing pain and growing numbness; he had to get out of here before it could completely numb him.

Or worse.

* * *

Picking the last lock took much longer than he had wanted it to, because his sight was starting to become blurrier with each minute that passed and he had to pause several times because his hand trembled too much. Sweat was coating the back of his neck and he felt like he was running a fever; fire setting his whole body alight, the flames burying themselves between his skin and his muscles.

Finally, fuck knew how much time had passed already, the hairpin had been twisted in just the right way for the lock to give away and Cora was able to shove the shackles off her.

"Can you stand?" he asked, breathing a bit harsher when he straightened up and shoved the hairpin back into his pocket. God, how much time did they still have left? It couldn't be that much anymore.

"Y-yeah, I – I think I can," she said dubiously and slowly stood up. She'd barely risen up completely when her left knee buckled and gave out underneath her.

He was just in time to catch her around her waist before she would smack against the floor. "Is your leg or your foot broken?" he asked urgently, bringing her arm around his neck.

"No, it's just the Wolfsbane," she said through gritted teeth. "Are you feeling okay? You feel warmer than usual."

"I'm fine," he said flippantly and looked at the window, squinting at it.

He thought that if he gave her a boost, she would be able to make it through the window. The table could be pushed underneath it and he could use that to get himself out. They would need to move quickly now, though, because he had no idea how much time had passed since Lydia had called him. His phone had buzzed several times afterwards, but he'd been focusing on getting rid of the lock. She'd be so fucking pissed once he saw her again.

"All right, if I give you a boost, do you think you can make it through the window?"

"What about you?"

He waved at the table against the wall. "I'll use that one to get up there. Can you shift? I doubt we'll have much time anymore and our shifts will get us away from here quicker."

She nodded slowly. "I think so, yeah. I should be able to."

He really hoped so, because his car was still at Erica's place; he'd arrived on foot here, because there was no way for him to hide his Jeep anywhere nearby. His car wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

"Okay, come on, let's get you out of here," he muttered and helped her to the window.

He nearly stumbled over his own feet a couple of times when spikes of pain shot through his legs, but he just clenched his jaw together and forced his legs to keep moving. Taking a deep breath when they reached the window, he bent down and laced his hands together.

"Up you go," he said and grunted when she set her left foot in his hands.

She latched onto to the edge of the window and pushed herself up with his help. It didn't go really smoothly, because she was obviously weakened by the poison which had been smeared across the shackles. In fact she'd only been able to hoist herself up completely with her butt and legs still inside the room when the sound of a rapidly approaching car had them both freeze at the same time.

He felt her tense against his arm when the car stopped somewhere close by the house and then soft footsteps made their way to the front of the house.

 _Theo was home._

"Stiles, he's here," she whispered and her voice shook with fear.

"I know, come on, just a bit more and you're through the window," he whispered, pushing her legs up. "You're almost there, don't freeze on me now!"

For once she listened to him and she wriggled through the gap, pulling her legs up. She disappeared from sight for a few seconds before her ashen white face popped back into the window. "Stiles, come on, now it's your turn!"

She reached out with her hands to grab him, but stopped when the sound of a door opening and closing reached them.

Theo was definitely inside the house now – and judging by the footsteps, making his way right to this room.

No doubt about it: somehow he knew Stiles was here – or at least that someone else besides Cora was currently inside the house. _Shit_.

Instead of grabbing her hands, he pushed them away and stepped back, waving her away. "Go now! Shift and run!"

"I can't leave you here!" she hissed panicked and her eyes glittered with something suspiciously akin to tears. "Stiles, come on! I can't leave you behind! Grab my hands!"

He shook his head, looking around quickly for anything he could use. "I'll be right behind you, I swear! Just go!"

When she still hesitated, he flashed his eyes at her and hissed, "Go! Otherwise me saving you will have been for nothing!"

She growled and flashed her eyes in return. "You better be right behind me, or I swear to god, Stilinski, I'm going to kill you myself!"

She pulled back and a few seconds later there was the noise of shifting bones before four paws thudded away. At the same time Stiles heard a key being turned into the lock up the stairs and he ducked down in the little alcove underneath the staircase, grabbing the only thing that could be used as a weapon.

His lungs were starting to hurt now, an unrelenting pressure against his chest making it harder to breathe, but he did his best to keep his breathing regular. He knew it wouldn't matter much. The moment that door opened, Theo would know where he was hiding. The only thing he could do was keep as still as possible and await the right moment to strike. He would only get one shot at this; he couldn't blow it.

He stilled when the door opened slowly and footsteps halted in the doorway.

"You know, I really should have expected you to figure it out," Theo said conversationally, lightly as if nothing was wrong. "The Sheriff's kid and one of the smartest in our year – no surprise that you would eventually figure it out."

He took a step down.

"And even right before I could complete the ritual." He sounded admiring. "Even managed to pick the locks, I see. This just confirms I made the right choice after all."

Stiles kept quiet and instead listened to the other man taking a couple of more steps down. He seemed to be toying with him, leisurely making his way down, because he thought he had him.

"I mean, of course I knew what I was doing when I chose you, but," he whistled in awe, "you really exceeded my expectations. You're really special, Stiles, and I can't wait to show you how great we'll be together."

Those words only made Stiles' stomach churn more violently. God, he prayed he wasn't about to get sick now.

"There's still that little matter of finishing the ritual, of course, but no worries. I'll tend to her once I've got you out of here," Theo continued and slowly descended the rest of the stairs. He sounded a bit apologetic when he went on, "I know you like her, but her sacrifice is necessary. You'll understand soon enough, I promise. Everything will make sense soon. Now why don't you come here, hm? I promise I won't be mad."

He took the last remaining step, halting at the bottom of the staircase. "You were just trying to do the good thing and I get that, I really do. But you're also confused about what the good thing actually is. I'll be more than happy to explain it to you in a bit, but let's get upstairs first, okay? It's more comfortable there than here." He chuckled softly.

"You like playing Hide and Seek, Stiles?" he asked softly, padding closer and closer. "I'm guessing you do, but we'll have to play it another time. I have to go after my little runaway first."

He halted a few feet away from the alcove and turned slowly around until his gaze landed on Stiles. His eyes glowed red and when he smiled, the hint of his fangs showed through.

"Looks like I found you, dear," he said in a sing-song voice.

"Yeah, look what I found, asshole," Stiles snapped and whipped the shackle straight at the Alpha.

The heavy metal slung through the air and delivered a firm blow against Theo's left temple. He howled when the Wolfsbane coating the shackles burnt his skin and scrabbled at his face, his claws sprouting into existence while he tried to rub the sticky paste off his face.

Making use of the man being momentarily distracted, Stiles sprinted past him, ignoring the way his muscles protested and pushing himself up the stairs. He almost tripped a couple of times but he managed to burst through the door right when a furious roar shook the foundations of the house.

"Oh Stiles, why did you have to do this? Now I have to punish you."

The dark tone had shivers running down Stiles' spine and he stumbled into the door of the room next to the basement. When footsteps rapidly made their way up the stairs, he shook his head in order to dispel the daze threatening to take a hold of him and pushed himself off the wall, propelling himself through the open front door.

He could barely see anymore, his vision becoming too blurry and a headache splitting his skull, but he still had enough presence of mind to shrug himself out of the hoodie when a hand snatched the back of it. He lost his balance when he stumbled over something and a burst of panic shot through him when he felt claws snatching at his wrist.

Without even consciously making the decision, he suddenly started shrinking, the world expanding in a rapid, almost frightening way around him, and then he was off, running like the devil himself was after him.

At this moment Theo might be the devil himself.

Only a couple of seconds later he became aware of something bigger than him running right after him and he forced his body through another burst of speed, disappearing into the forest. Every cell in his body was screaming; every breath, every pump of his heart sent the Wolfsbane further and further into his small body, the potion working quicker now that he was a lot smaller all of a sudden. His lungs burnt, his paws were on fire, his throat was filled with needles and shards, making every swallow painful, and he barely could see anything anymore, darkness creeping in on him.

He didn't have long anymore, he knew. Not with the way the potion was quickly getting pumped through his entire body, not with the giant panther quickly gaining ground on him, diminishing the distance between them. Bushes rustled and branches creaked and broke when the giant cat forced his way straight through them. His own smaller body had an easier time navigating through the forest, the ground offering just enough support for him to push himself off and speed away.

His smaller form was an advantage, but he was rapidly growing weaker. His entire mind was blank; no ideas forming, no plans springing into existence. The only thing he could think of was getting Theo as far away from Cora as possible. If he couldn't get her, he couldn't complete the ritual and she could tell the police what had happened. Without her, the Alpha had nothing and couldn't do anything.

He clung to that thought and he clung to the thought of his dad, of Scott, of Derek, of Lydia, of seeing all his friends and family again. He used that desire to propel him through the bushes, navigate around trees and jump over little creeks.

But his strides grew shorter, his jumps weaker, and his body couldn't handle running so fast anymore. He was shutting down, his organs feeling like they were being liquified, and he could barely get any air inside his lungs anymore. His paws trembled and threatened to buckle underneath him any moment now.

What could he do? Where could he go to?

He tripped over a tree root and rolled down the small hill, broken off branches and stones digging into him on his painful descent down. When he finally stopped, he stood up on shaking paws and coughed and hacked, suddenly having it too hard to breathe.

A black tar like substance splattered across the forest floor.

Blearily he stared at the shiny liquid and even with the daze threatening to take him under, he realised he was running out of time. Quickly. Either the poison would do him in or Theo would get to him. Neither option particularly appealed to him.

He didn't want to die, didn't want to leave his dad behind. His dad, who didn't even know where he was now, who had no clue his only son was currently being hunted down by the killer he'd been trying to catch for months now.

If he died here, he wouldn't see dad again. He wouldn't be able to joke around with Scott, wouldn't be able to challenge Lydia anymore. If he gave up, he would never find out whether he and Derek would have been good together.

He couldn't give up now. But he was getting so _tired_ …

Everything hurt, everything ached and screamed and he just wanted to lie down and rest. Instead he forced himself to continue, stumbled more than ran, and tried to find that one place where he could be safe.

* * *

Somehow he managed to stay out of Theo's reach for a while and when he blinked next, he was suddenly standing in a familiar field.

The tree trunk – _Nemeton_ , a voice whispered in his ears – seemed to tower above him and almost trance like he walked over to it, dragging his exhausted body to the trunk. He whined when he dropped down and panted, the pain worse than anything he'd ever felt before.

He just wanted to go home … He wanted his dad, he needed Derek, he wanted to see Scott and Lydia … He wanted to bicker with Isaac, game with Erica and Boyd. He wanted his pack.

He just wanted _home_.

"You put up one hell of a fight, but it's over now, Stiles." Theo stepped into the clearing, his eyes blood red and glinting viciously. "I'm going to have so much fun breaking you."

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and whined brokenly, pressing himself even closer to the dead tree, as if it could protect him from the advancing Alpha. He … He needed someone to help him. He needed someone here before it was too late.

 _ **SOMEONE HELP ME!**_

The birds quietened, the leaves stopped rustling; everything became dead silent. Theo stopped walking and looked up with a frown, his head cocked to the left as if he was listening.

Then the earth exploded and a hellish white light filled the clearing as bright as the sunlight, blasting from seemingly nowhere.

Something wrapped around Stiles, something thin but strong, and squeezed him tightly, so tightly that all the air was slammed out of his chest, and he opened his jaw in a soundless scream.

A ferocious roar rebounded through the clearing, more furious growling joining. The earth trembled violently underneath him and a high pitched whistling sound tore through the air, suppressing all other sounds abruptly.

The pressure remained unrelenting and even though his mouth was wide open, he couldn't breathe.

He couldn't breathe and he couldn't move. _He was going to die here_.

He was going to die here; he was going to leave his dad alone and Derek and Lydia and –

 _Darkness. Nothing._

* * *

 **AN2: Yeah, not particularly happy with the ending, but I couldn't figure out a way to make it better, so *throws hands up***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note: It's been a tiring week for me and I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but there's only so much rewriting I can do *sighs* I hope it isn't too bad *winces***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: out of control with OCs; Digidestined10; babyvfan; yukino76; Almondweb; Myxes; Leo Gelly**

 **Warnings: Hm, nothing in particular I think**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 17_

He was so close … So close to finding her. She couldn't be that far away from him anymore, he was sure. He just needed to search for a bit longer, track her scent as best as he could and then he would win their game. Easy peasy.

Creeping forwards, he halted behind one of the trees, studying the clearing carefully. A grin lit up his face when he spotted what he'd been looking for: a flash of dark hair, a shadow retreating behind the thick, old tree.

 _Gotcha._

He sprinted towards the tree as fast as he could, not wanting to give her the time to slip away again. He'd finally found her and he wouldn't let her escape now! He swung himself around the tree and launched himself at her. Peals of bright laughter filled the air when she caught him swiftly around his waist, whirling him around before plopping him back down on the ground.

"I found you!" he said triumphantly, grabbing her elbows. Now that he'd found her, he didn't want to let her go.

"Yes, you did, sweetheart," she smiled and sank down, until she ended up sitting with her back against the ancient tree.

Ancient but still robust. He looked up in wonder, catching the sunlight filtering through the leaves, watching the multiple branches tower above them, forming a natural roof over their heads. This was a tree that would stand strong against anything that would try to take it down; one that would still be left standing when all else had long since perished.

"You did an amazing job with finding her, my love," Mom praised him; her eyes glittering as she tugged him softly down, running her fingers through his hair.

He preened at her, before the words actually registered and he became confused. "Mom?"

"I've always known you were destined for great things," she continued; still smiling, though her eyes darkened slightly. "The second you were born, kochanie, _I knew_."

"Mom? What are you saying?" He stared at her bewildered. Hadn't they just been playing Hide and Seek?

"I wish you could have discovered your strength in another way, but so be it." She grew sombre and his belly squeezed together in an uncomfortable way. "Ah, kochanie, the trials you're about to face … I wish I could be there for you."

"I don't understand," he said helplessly, shivering when the wind suddenly picked up, rustling the leaves above them violently.

When he looked up, he could no longer see the sun through the foliage; instead the little he could see of the sky was turning rapidly dark grey, announcing that a heavy storm was brewing.

"Mom, I think we should go home now," he said apprehensively and clambered upright, pulling at her wrist. "It looks like a storm is coming." He really didn't want to be caught in it; it looked _dangerous_.

She gazed up pensively. "So it is," she murmured, but didn't make any move to get up.

"Come on, mom, we need to go before it starts raining," he urged her, but still she wouldn't budge.

She just smiled at him, caressing the back of his hand before pulling it to her lips and brushing a kiss on it. "You need to go. My time has already passed, but yours is only just beginning, Mieczyslaw."

"I don't – I don't understand," he said helplessly; jarred by her use of his real name. No one had called him that in such a long time.

But wait, it couldn't have been such a long time, right? Mom was right here and she always used his real name. Why was it so weird then to hear his name?

"I know you don't, but you will soon," she promised and stroked his left cheek with her index finger, leaving a single fiery trail of heat behind. "Now it is time for you to go back."

He opened his mouth to protest, to call out, _to say something_ that would make her continue talking, but his surroundings suddenly started swirling in front of him fast, like he'd been thrown in a rollercoaster which was going at top speed, spinning him around and around and around, until he could only see colours dancing in front of his eyes.

He was going to be sick any second now, he just knew it. His stomach was churning, flipping upside down, twisting around and he was starting to feel sick, wondering when the hell everything was finally going to stop. He just wanted everything to stop; he just wanted to go back to his mom, go back to talking to her, being with her, because he hadn't seen her in such a long time and –

When he opened his eyes, he was staring at a white ceiling with some cracks running through it like a spider's web. He blinked and slowly breathed out, his fingers twitching against the stiff cloth they were resting on as he took stock of how he felt.

His skin felt pulled tight as if someone had tried to push it down against his bones as much as possible. His muscles felt wrung out, twisted and alarm bells went off in a panic in his head when he tried to lift his right hand. Wincing, he relaxed it again. All right, so moving around was out of the question for now.

There was a fierce headache pounding away in his skull and his throat felt like someone had shoved a bunch of rusty nails through it, whilst on fire. On top of that he felt queasy and he squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Everything hurt_ and he had no clue what had happened.

A shocked gasp had him twisting his head around a bit until his neck protested and he had to clench his teeth in order not to shout out in pain. Melissa was standing in the doorway – oh, so he was in the hospital then? – and her eyes were wide as she slapped a hand in front of her mouth.

She was quick to regain her wits, though, and she snapped in the corridor, "John, he's awake!" before approaching him quickly and resting a hand against his forehead.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" she asked worriedly; her dark eyes sharply assessing him.

Before he could give a reply, his dad practically crashed into the room and she was barely quick enough to step aside, dad's arms slipping around him immediately, crushing him against his shoulder.

"You scared the hell out of me, Stiles!" Dad swore and the younger man could feel him trembling; his breathing harsh and uneven. "Don't ever do that to me again, I thought I'd lost you!"

"I'm sorry, dad," Stiles croaked out, ignoring the fire flaring up in his throat when he spoke. He forced one arm to reach up and curl around dad's shoulders, hugging him back as tightly as he could. "I – I couldn't leave her there. Is – is she okay?"

His fingers cramped up and dug into dad's shoulder when Cora's terrified face flashed past his eyes. He'd been so sure that he had led Theo away from her, but he couldn't actually remember much of what had happened after he'd pushed her through the window. He remembered Theo finding him and then chasing after him through the woods. Then there was a whole blank space in his mind and the only thing he could recall before losing consciousness was thinking he would never be able to breathe again, because everything had hurt for some reason.

What had happened? Where was Theo now? Had Cora managed to get safely away? God, he hoped so.

Melissa made a move as if to wave dad back, but he stepped away slightly, giving her room to examine Stiles more thoroughly. He kept a hand on Stiles' arm, though, clearly not wanting to relinquish his hold completely.

"She's okay," he reassured him. "She managed to go back home and tell us what she knew."

Stiles breathed out in relief, sagging back against his pillow. "Oh, thank god. I wasn't sure – I'm so glad she's safe."

"We all are," Dad murmured and then his eyes sharpened in that peculiar way that never failed to make Stiles squirm uneasily.

As it was, he could barely twitch without pain flashing up and he winced when Melissa briefly checked his eyes with a small flashlight.

"Mind telling me what on earth you were thinking, going into that house? You could have been killed!" Dad said, and his hand cramped around Stiles' arm. "Why didn't you come to me with your suspicions? For that matter, how come you started suspecting him? There was nothing that tied him to any of the victims."

Stiles took a deep breath; he had known dad would have questions, even if the confrontation had ended in a different way than this one, but that didn't mean he was looking forward to this particular conversation. He didn't need his dad to tell him what he had done had been beyond stupid and too dangerous, but he would get that scolding nevertheless.

A part of him was secretly glad that he was still alive to receive the scolding. He honestly hadn't thought he would survive the encounter with Theo.

"I know you need at least some kind of evidence to get a warrant to search the house, so I went there to check if I could find Cora there. I know I should have told you about my suspicions, but do you really think Theo would have just admitted to killing all those people and kidnapping Cora?" He peered up at his dad, who scowled at him.

"You should have called me the second you saw her in that basement, Stiles. That would have been more than proof enough to arrest him and search his house."

"I know, but I just couldn't leave her there! I thought I'd be able to get us out of there before he came back home." Stiles grimaced; the pain in his muscles reminding him that he had thought wrongly.

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something soundlessly before he said, "That still doesn't explain why you suspected him. What made you think he was behind all this, Stiles?"

"I …" Stiles hesitated, debating just how much he would tell.

It had all started with him realising that Theo had fucked with his injection and the resulting car crash his dad had been in, followed by the Alpha's threats. But he couldn't … He didn't want to tell his dad how close Theo had been to taking advantage of him. Theo being a murderer was one thing, but if dad found out he'd been planning on raping his son during his heat …

He couldn't care less about the bastard, but he didn't want his dad to go to prison because of him. There was no way he could tell his dad about that part. He didn't know where Theo was now, what even had happened in the clearing, but he had no trouble envisioning the Sheriff hunting the Alpha down and killing him for what he'd tried to do to his son. The absolute last thing he wanted was for his dad to land in prison because of something Theo had tried to do.

And it wasn't as if – nothing had happened. The doctor had said so. And he'd spent his second heat at Erica's place, so he'd been safe then.

No, he would keep that part to himself. He would tell his dad that he knew Theo had been behind the car crash somehow, but his dad would never know what else Theo had tried to do.

"I smelt Cora on him last time we met," he eventually admitted. "The scent wasn't that strong; I guess he'd taken a shower before meeting me, but it was enough to make me suspicious. I didn't want to alert him, so I acted like I hadn't smelt anything, but I needed some kind of proof, so I decided to go to his house to check whether she was there."

"You know that was too dangerous, son. I wish you'd told me," Dad said softly.

Melissa was now checking his reflexes and Stiles briefly wondered just what had happened to him for her to give him such a thorough examination.

"I know, but you needed proof before you could act," Stiles pointed out and licked his lips. "I didn't want to give Theo a chance to escape his punishment, all because of some legal bullshit. What – where is he now?"

Obviously he hadn't succeeded in killing him – if that had been Theo's plan to start with – but where was he now? Was he held at the precinct or had he somehow escaped? Ice filled his veins at that thought. If Theo had escaped, then …

Dad dragged the chair closer to the bed and finally sat down, though he still kept a hold of Stiles' arm. His face was completely blank when he said, "Why don't you tell me first what you can remember?"

That – didn't sound very reassuring. Swallowing, Stiles began, "I can remember telling Cora to start running once we heard Theo inside the house. I hid myself in the basement and grabbed one of the shackles to defend myself."

Approval flashed up briefly in dad's eyes.

"Once Theo got near enough, I slammed the shackle against his face and ran upstairs, but," he swallowed again and lifted up his hand weakly to point at the cut on his face, "I accidentally set off a trap when I got Cora free and a knife with some kind of poison on it cut me, so I couldn't run as fast as normal."

Melissa nodded and stopped her examination, pursing her lips. "You had a very strong strain of Wolfsbane in your blood, thanks to that cut," she told him; her claws briefly popping up – the only sign she was affected by what had happened to him. "It's no wonder your speed was limited. We had to flush out your entire system to get rid of it and that wasn't easy. You've been unconscious for two days. It's Friday now."

"Oh," he said in a small voice, sucking in his lower lip. He hadn't – he hadn't realised just how strong the Wolfsbane had been. He'd known it hadn't been any good news when he'd got cut, but … It seemed he'd been in more danger than he'd assumed.

That was something his dad appeared to realise too, because his face darkened for a moment before he murmured, "Can you remember anything else after that?"

"I know that I ran away from the house to the woods because Theo was chasing," _hunting me down_ , "after me. I remember getting sick and then suddenly I was at the clearing mom used to take me to and then …" He shook his head frustrated, his headache growing worse as he tried to recall anything else beyond that point. "I know that I suddenly was in a lot of pain, but … I can't remember anything else. What happened? How did you find me?"

Dad exchanged a look with Melissa. "The Hales heard you screaming for help," he answered after a pause. "Talia called me, but Peter, Derek and Laura rushed to your side. Erica and Boyd followed too. Derek got you out of there and the others went after Theo."

"Did they catch him?" Stiles' mouth went dry as the desert and his fingers dug into the sheets.

Dad clenched his jaw and looked away, breathing harshly through his nose before he composed himself and turned to face him again. "No, they didn't," he said curtly. "They chased him all the way to the edge of the Preserve, but he had someone waiting for him there in a car. They escaped and my men lost track of them thirty miles away from here."

It felt like all the air was slammed out of him and Stiles couldn't quite supress a whimper of fear. _Theo was still out there_. He was still free, staying out of reach for now, but he would come back. That, Stiles knew without a doubt. There was no way Theo would just let all of this go without a fight. He would come back, he would find Stiles and then …

His chin was grasped and pulled around so he was forced to look dad in his eyes. The older man's eyes were blazing with determination and he stated, "I've got men patrolling every possible entrance to the town. The moment Theo gets within a mile from here, we'll know and we'll be ready. He won't lay another finger on you, I swear."

Stiles blinked, only just now becoming aware that his vision was starting to become a bit blurry, and nodded, his fingers clutching at dad's wrist. He wanted to believe his dad, but if Theo had managed to land his dad in a car crash without even being physically there, how could he be so sure that they would catch him when he tried to go back to Beacon Hills?

"I swear, Stiles, he won't get anywhere near you," Dad said, his voice quiet but steadfast. "We'll get him and he'll pay for what he has done, I promise you."

"Yeah, okay," Stiles nodded and then regretted the action immediately when another stab of pain shot through his back into his skull. "If the Wolfsbane's out of my system, why does it still hurt so much?"

Melissa exchanged another glance with dad and both of them got a peculiar look on their faces; one which set Stiles on edge. What did they know?

"That's something that Deaton will be able to explain to you later," Dad said.

"What? No, I want to know now!" Stiles protested, narrowing his eyes.

Dad shook his head. "Sorry, son, but you'll have to wait for a bit. If I try to explain it, you'll only have more questions, and Deaton's the only one who can give you decent answers. Hell, kid, I don't even know half of it myself."

"You're not very reassuring now," Stiles accused him, wondering whether he should start panicking. He'd thought the worst was over, now that the Wolfsbane was out of his system and he was no longer in danger of whatever Theo had been planning, but his dad's evasiveness was making him worried again. Had something else happened to him during that time he'd been unconscious? Had Theo managed to do something before the Hales had arrived?

Panic was starting to bubble up, wrapping thick tendrils around his chest, but dad squeezed his arm, drawing his attention.

"I promise you, nothing bad is happening to you. You'll feel better soon, now that the Wolfsbane is out of your system," Dad said and there was no lie or deceit in his face when Stiles stared at him.

"Fine, I'll wait until Deaton comes then," he huffed, scowling half-heartedly.

As long as he wasn't in danger of dying of something, then he supposed he could wait until the enigmatic man showed up. He could only hope his answers would actually be clear this time, unlike all those other times he'd ask the druid something, only to get some vague, mysterious reply in return.

"Good," Dad smiled faintly and stood up. "Now there are some friends of you impatiently waiting in the hallway to see you, so I'll let them in while I'll go talk with some deputies. But Stiles, we will talk about that stupid stunt you pulled once you're out of here." With that warning hanging in the air, the Sheriff left.

"I'm glad you're awake, Stiles," Melissa murmured before she quirked an eyebrow. "But I very much prefer not seeing you again in this position, understood?"

"Yes, Mrs. McCall," he squeaked, knowing that dangerous glint in her eyes all too well. He supposed he should feel glad that he was still feeling like shit, because otherwise she would have given him a great scolding.

He didn't know which scolding was worse: his dad's or Melissa's.

"Good," she said resolutely before her face softened and she came up to stroke his hair back. "I'll tell your visitors they can see you for a little while, but only per two."

Scott and Lydia were the first ones to rush inside. Scott immediately hugged him tightly before Stiles' pained groan alerted him that he had to be a bit more careful and he pulled back with a hasty apology.

"Shit, Stiles, you scared the hell out of me!" Scott said in a strangled voice; his brown eyes wide and still with an edge of panic in them. "You dick, do you have any idea how worried you made us all?"

"I'm sorry, dude," Stiles said, squeezing his wrist quickly. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Lydia crossed her arms. "You're not half as sorry as you'll be by the time I'm done with you when you get out of here," she hissed; her eyes sparking with anger. "You promised me you'd leave the second I called you and what did you do?!" Her voice gained a shrill tone at the end and he flinched.

"I know, I know, Lydia, and I'm really sorry, but I couldn't just leave her there!"

"You nearly died, Stiles." Her voice was now deadly quiet and she stood next to his bed frozen like a statue.

Only now did he realise her face was completely bare of make-up; her eyes slightly puffy looking as if she'd been crying for a while. That only made him feel worse and his guilt got kicked up a notch. Fuck, he'd really screwed up badly, hadn't he?

"I only agreed to your plan, because you'd promised me you would keep yourself safe!" she continued; trembling slightly. Roughly she wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "And then you refuse to listen to me and you nearly died! I swear, Stilinski, next time you pull a stunt like this and die, I'll drag you back from the dead myself to end you!"

She whirled around and stalked out of the room; her heels stamping on the tiled floor and her red hair whipping around her.

"I pissed her off," Stiles grimaced, realising he would have to do a lot of grovelling to get back in her good graces.

"Can you blame her?" Scott stared at him troubled. "The doctors had to work for hours to get the Wolfsbane out of your system and mom said – she said that they weren't sure whether you would make it."

"I'm really sorry, Scott." Stiles looked down ashamed, staring at the sheets. "I didn't mean – I just couldn't leave her there, you know? Theo might have moved her to another place then and then we would never have found her on time. I had to do something."

"I get it, dude," Scott said quietly and sank down on his bed. "And I'm glad you got her out of there, but it was still very dangerous. Why didn't you ask me to join you? I could have helped." Hurt simmered in his voice.

"I didn't think of it," Stiles muttered, but in truth, he hadn't wanted to bring yet another friend of him in trouble. He'd only asked Lydia's help because he needed someone to distract Theo, and even that he'd done so reluctantly. If there had been a way to do everything on his own, he would have, because the last thing he'd ever wanted was for his friends to get hurt.

"Well, next time you're going to rescue someone, I'm coming with you, all right?" Scott grinned, and even though it was a weak one, Stiles returned it.

"You got it, dude," he said and lifted his fist.

Scott's grin grew a bit wider and they fist bumped. Stiles knew they were okay then. Scott had never been able to stay mad at him for long.

When Melissa came to retrieve her son, because their time together was up, Scott gave him a reassuring smile and said, "Lydia will come around, you know. She's just worried."

"Yeah, I know," Stiles sighed. "I didn't mean to make you all worry."

Scott nodded. "I'm sure she'll forgive you if you go shopping with her," he said lightly.

Stiles shuddered. "I'm not sure whether I want her forgiveness that much if that's the price," he joked and Scott left the hospital room laughing.

They both knew Stiles would gladly suffer through the torture of shopping if that meant earning Lydia's forgiveness. It was the least he could do after breaking his promise to her.

* * *

To his great surprise Cora and Laura visited him as well. Cora looked better already now that she was no longer subdued by the Wolfsbane and the shackles and she ranted at him for having been so fucking stupid. She would have personally brought him back to life somehow if Theo had managed to kill him, just so she could kill him herself.

Laura translated her ranting into "Thanks, Stiles, for saving my baby sister."

He seemed to have formed a tendency to surround himself with women who would gladly kill him themselves for being stupid enough to risk his life.

"I'm glad you're okay," he told the youngest Hale with a smile.

She huffed and crossed her arms, looking away. "Yeah well, you look like shit, loser," she muttered, pulling up her nose. "Next time listen to me when I tell you to get away and stop being such a hero."

"You're planning on getting kidnapped again?"

That earned him a vicious pinch in his thigh and he yelped, eyes watering with pain.

"You're an idiot, Stilinski!" she growled at him before storming out of the room.

"She doesn't want you to know this, but she was really worried about you," Laura said and for once every trace of amusement was gone. "She's been beside herself these past two days, scared you wouldn't wake up."

She paused and her eyes softened when she looked at him. "We were all worried," she amended and brushed her fingers against his cheek. "Don't scare us like that again, okay? You even freaked out Uncle Peter and that's saying something."

"I'm sorry." He'd lost count of how many times he'd said that already since waking up. "I just couldn't leave her there."

"We're really grateful that you saved her," she reassured him and quirked up the corners of her mouth in a faint smile. "Just – if something like this happens again, though I hope to the gods it won't, come to us. We'll help you. After all, we're not bound by police rules." A spark of humour lit up her eyes.

"I'll keep that in mind," he smiled.

"Good, get some rest now," she told him and slipped off the bed. "I heard you've got a talk with Deaton ahead of you and we all know you're going to need all your energy for that."

She left the room cackling, while he groaned.

* * *

He was left alone until lunch, although he was aware that someone was stationed right in front of his door. A deputy most likely, making sure that nobody unauthorised could enter his room.

He was slowly starting to feel better and right when he started contemplating whether he could ask Scott to bring him some actual decent food – the hospital had a strange view of what they considered 'decent food' – the door opened slowly.

Turning his head, he expected to see Melissa again or even his dad, and was therefore very surprised when Derek slipped inside the room. He nearly upended his tray in his haste to sit up a bit straighter, even if that move still made his muscles protest.

"Derek, hi!" he said startled.

"Hi," the older man said quietly and came to a stop a few feet away from the bed. Cocking his head to the left, he wondered, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a steamroller," Stiles answered bluntly and shrugged half-heartedly. "But I'm starting to feel a bit better. I, er, I heard you got me out of there. Thanks." His tray with the pudding cup lying on its side was quite interesting all of a sudden and he picked at the corner of his napkin.

"Thanks for saving my sister."

The words might have expressed gratitude, but his voice was brusque, bordering on snappish and when Stiles cautiously looked at him, Derek was standing there with his arms crossed, his muscles bulging, and a dark look on his face.

"You sound a bit … mad," Stiles said tentatively.

Derek visibly clenched his jaw and for a moment he looked ready to turn around again and leave. Then he shook his head sharply and took a step closer. "Yes, I'm mad. I'm mad because you could have died there, Stiles," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "You could have died there and we wouldn't have known about it until it was too late! Why the hell didn't you tell anyone what you were planning? I know you're not dumb, but that has to be one of the stupidest things you've ever done!"

"Lydia knew where I was!" Stiles countered, but even he knew his argument was weak. "I fucked up, I know, but I got Cora out of there, didn't I?"

"And you nearly died!" Derek snapped. "Do you really think that would have been better?"

"But I didn't! I'd think you would be happy to have your sister back!" Stiles snapped back, hackles raised, even if a part of him acknowledged that Derek had the right to be angry at him.

"Not if that meant you would have died instead!" Derek growled, his eyes flashing with anger. "Her life isn't worth more than yours! Why the hell didn't you come to us when you suspected Raeken? We could have helped you!"

"Because I …!" _didn't want Theo to paint a target on your back_ , he wanted to say but bit back the last part. "Because I wanted to keep you safe," he settled on instead.

Derek snorted. "You really think Raeken could have taken on several of us? If you thought we would be in danger, why the hell do you think you would have fared any better against him?"

"I survived," Stiles muttered petulantly, not appreciating the dig at his abilities. He knew he wasn't as muscled as Derek or some of the other Hales were, but that didn't mean he was _weak_.

"Barely," Derek said harshly. "If we'd been any later, you would have died from the Wolfsbane poisoning!"

"But you weren't later and I'm still here!" Stiles threw out his arms in a "Tada!" gesture.

The Beta growled angrily and started pacing back and forth agitatedly, muttering something darkly underneath his breath. Stiles was pretty sure they weren't favourable things about him. Pursing his lips, he looked away and stared out of the window, watching the sun slowly disappear behind the clouds. He had had enough scolding already about his reckless behaviour; he was sick of being berated by every person who came to visit him.

Yes, he'd been stupid! He realised that! But he would do it all over again if that meant saving Cora.

The chair creaked in protest when Derek dropped down heavily on it. "Look, I - …" He sounded uncomfortable and Stiles unwillingly turned to look at him.

Derek was staring at his hands, as if they held all the answers. "I – I panicked when I found you. You were bleeding black out of your mouth and your nose and I could barely hear your heartbeat anymore and – I thought I'd lost you, okay? I don't want to feel like that ever again." He sounded raw, the words dragged out of him by a hook, and when he lifted his head, Stiles' breath hitched at the pain he could see lurking in the depths of those hazel eyes.

"I could have lost you before I even had the chance to have you and …" He shook his head slowly. "It was hard seeing you like this."

"I'm sorry. I mean it, Derek. I never meant for all this to happen," Stiles said quietly and ignoring the ache still drumming in his bones, he reached out to grab Derek's hand. "I should have asked someone to join me, I know. I just didn't think about it. I thought I'd be able to get her out of there before he came back."

"Your problem has always been that you think too much," Derek huffed, but laced their fingers together nevertheless.

The sensation of those warm, strong fingers against his had his stomach flipping in an entirely different manner now and he licked his lips, all too aware of the way the other man's eyes tracked the movement. "Yeah, I guess that's true," he snorted, before saying softly, "I'm glad you found me."

"I'm glad you're here," Derek replied; his eyes soft now when they gazed at the Omega.

Comfortable silence fell between them and for once Stiles saw no reason to break that with his chatter. Instead he just revelled in Derek's presence near him and the fact that everything was okay for now at least.

* * *

 **AN2: Well, at least Theo is out of the picture - for now *hums***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note: Not much action in this chapter, but this one is necessary to move the story further, so bear with me please.**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: out of control with OCs; Leo Gelly; Digidestined10; Almondweb; yukino76; babyvfan**

 **Warnings: Panic attack (my apologies if it's inaccurate; I don't want to offend anyone with it; mostly some explanation about Elemental Foxes**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 18_

"You look better than when you were brought into the hospital, Mister Stilinski."

Deaton's calm, _very unexpected_ , voice had Stiles starting and flaying his arms around; his heart skipping a beat. "Can't you just knock?" he asked annoyed and sat up.

"I did." Deaton quirked an eyebrow and closed the door behind him. "You must have been distracted." His dark eyes flitted briefly to Stiles' and Derek's entwined hands.

Stiles flushed, but refused to release the werewolf's hand. If Derek was okay with holding hands in front of the druid, then he was more than okay with it.

"I've heard you have questions for me," Deaton went on, pausing at the end of the hospital bed. He carried with him a strong scent of the woods, as if he'd been walking around there the whole day.

"Dad said you're the only one who can answer them," Stiles said, eyeing him warily. Given how cryptic the older man had been in the past, he wasn't so sure whether he would get some actual answers now.

"I'll try at least," Deaton smiled. "What do you want to know?"

"Why am I still not healed?" Stiles demanded immediately, figuring he'd go for the most important question first. There was also the matter as to why he hadn't figured out sooner what kind of ritual Theo had been wanting to set up – he was a goddamn druid, shouldn't he have recognised this shit? – but the whole still not fully healed yet part was slightly more important now.

Two days should have been more than enough for him to heal completely, even if they had to flush out his entire system.

"That's a very interesting question," Deaton said mildly and his eyes lit up with interest. "Before I can answer that, I'll have to tell you something else first. Otherwise it won't make much sense."

Waving his free arm in the air, Stiles said, "Lay it on me. Whatever gets me a real answer."

Derek squeezed his hand briefly at the non-too subtle dig at the druid. Whatever, the man knew how annoying Stiles thought his evasiveness was. If he hadn't been offended by that in the past, he wouldn't be now.

"How much do you know about Elemental Foxes?"

That they were apparently connected to whatever the Nemeton was. He could hardly answer that, though, because that would mean admitting he'd been snooping around in the druid's files.

"Nothing," he said instead and that wasn't even a lie. He literally knew nothing about these supposed Elemental Foxes, except that apparently somehow the one in Beacon Hills had been connected to this Nemeton crap and their death had caused the decline of the Nemeton. That was all he knew – and even that little he'd only found out accidentally.

Deaton nodded thoughtfully, folding his hands together. "That does not surprise me. Not much is known about them after all."

 _Then why the hell did you ask?_

He must have sensed Stiles' rapidly growing frustration because he continued, "Keep in mind that what I'm about to tell you is information mostly pulled out of old lore, tales which have been passed through throughout the centuries."

Stiles just nodded, resigning himself to a long winded conversation in which he still might not get all the answers he needed. Why had his dad thought Deaton would be the perfect guy to ask questions to? The man lived to be as mysterious as ever!

"The reason why not much is known about them is simply because Elemental Foxes are very _rare_ ," Deaton started, putting emphasis on the last word. "They are said to be descendants of the old gods themselves, though of course how much of that is true has been lost to history." He smiled faintly.

Stiles still didn't get what this little mythology titbit had to do with him, but he guessed he just had to keep waiting and hope Deaton would get to the point soon.

"Considering their link with the gods, it's not surprising that they are thought to be connected to spiritual sources here on earth," Deaton continued serenely. "Lore has it that Elemental Foxes tend to gravitate to spiritual sources and essentially bind with them. It's said that any village already lucky enough to have a spiritual source in their midst will be favoured by Lady Fortune herself should an Elemental Fox bind itself to the source."

"Look, this is all very interesting, but can you just please tell me what all that has to do with me?" Stiles said tersely; his fingers spasming around Derek's briefly. He just wanted to know why the hell he still felt like he'd been beaten up – which was admittedly a slight upgrade since this morning when he had felt like a steamroller had flattened him – and any mythology information could wait for now.

"Beacon Hills is a very old town."

Of course Deaton wouldn't be deterred from his tale, that would have been too easy. _Lovely._

"So old that it has its own spiritual source," he paused. "The Nemeton."

"That tree stump?" Stiles squinted at him. He was almost a hundred per cent sure Deaton was referring to the stump, but it wouldn't hurt to finally have his suspicions confirmed.

Next to him Derick shifted slightly as if he wanted to say something. When Stiles glanced at him, though, Derek's face was smooth and he was just staring at Deaton.

"The tree, yes," Deaton confirmed, and yes, he knew he'd been right! "The town was also very fortunate to have an Elemental Fox binding herself to the Nemeton."

"If you had an Elemental Fox in Beacon Hills, then you should know more about them, no?" Which would render the beginning of Deaton's explanation entirely moot and a waste of time.

"She was a very private person," Deaton replied calmly. "She wasn't very prone to giving a lot of information about her kind."

"Why is it considered lucky to have an Elemental Fox tied to a spiritual source?" Derek asked; his thumb rubbing slowly across Stiles' knuckles.

"The same reason why anyone mated to an Elemental Fox is considered to be incredibly fortunate: they provide a power boost to put it simply," Deaton answered; his eyes growing distant. "Spiritual sources in the past were used as an aid to raise wards around the town, meant to protect the inhabitants from possible attacks. If an Elemental Fox gave their power freely, the wards – and any other ritual that requested their aid – would be boosted tenfold. They would become practically impregnable. You would not be able to find a better defence than that."

Stiles was starting to get a bad feeling about this. "Who was this Elemental Fox? The one who tied herself to the Nemeton?"

Deaton's eyes seemed to burn straight into his skull when he replied softly, "Claudia Stilinski. Your mother."

He suddenly became aware of how loud his blood was rushing through his veins, the noise drowning out the beeping of the machines next to him and the hustle and bustle of the hospital outside his room disappeared, replacing by ringing. It was becoming harder to breathe, his lungs unable to expand properly, and he clawed at his chest, panicking when something blocked his throat, preventing him from inhaling deeply.

"Stiles, Stiles, look at me." Derek's commanding voice sounded far away, like Stiles was under water and all the sounds got absorbed by it.

Warm, strong hands grabbed his own, stopping him from scratching his chest even further, and then his right hand was pressed against a firm chest, the other still holding his free hand firmly.

Wildly he looked up, his breathing shallow, as he gasped and gasped for air, and then his eyes locked onto glowing golden ones and distantly he was aware of flashing his own, even as panic threatened to drown him further and breathing became even harder, and god, he was never going to be able to breathe again and he was going to suffocate here, he was going to die here, in this stupid hospital bed, right when he'd survived Theo and wouldn't that be one hell of a stupid idiotic way to go? God, what was wrong with him, why couldn't he just breathe, he knew he could breathe, nothing was pressing down on his chest, but his lungs were being stubborn bastards and nothing was cooperating and, and –

"You're okay, you're safe. You're with me, you're okay, everything is fine," Derek was saying, keeping his eyes locked onto the Omega's. "Breathe with me, I know you can do it. One, two, three, four, five, six, inhale and one, two, three, four, five, six, exhale. Just copy what I do, I know you can do it. One, two, three, four, five, six, inhale and one, two, three, four, five, six, exhale."

He couldn't focus at first. Derek's words washed over him, not registering in his brain, until something made a click somehow and then he slowly started to match Derek's breathing, counting with him silently, inhaling and exhaling when he did. It wasn't an instant fix. It took a long time to come down from – what he embarrassingly realised was – a panic attack. He hadn't had those in years – not since the two years after his mother had died.

 _God, they fucking sucked._

Deaton was still standing at the foot end of his bed; his face unreadable when Stiles raised his head. He was too sweaty and tired, and drained, but he needed to know.

"The Nemeton looks like that because of my mom?" His voice croaked, broke in the middle and he gulped down the glass of water Derek offered him.

"When she passed away, the Nemeton fell in mourning," Deaton murmured; a vague hint of sympathy lurking in his voice. "It's what happens when a spiritual source like it is tied to someone. The source cannot die, but they can mourn and take years to restore themselves to their full strength."

"Did – does my dad know? That mom – that mom was an Elemental Fox?" Why had he never told him? In all those years … He'd assumed for all those years that mom had been a regular fox, just like him. He'd thought she was special, yes, but in the way every child thought their mom was amazing and special and perfect.

He'd never thought she would be a _rare breed_.

"That I do not know for certain," Deaton said neutrally. "As I mentioned before, your mother was a very private person. It is quite possible that your father never knew her true nature."

"What does that – am I … Am I the same?" He could barely get the words out of his mouth; they wanted to remain stuck in his throat as though if he didn't speak them aloud, he wouldn't need to face reality.

The reality that he might be a …

"You were found underneath the Nemeton. Considering Mister Raeken's address and the path you must have travelled in a bid to get away from him, it should have been impossible for you to find yourself anywhere near the Nemeton," Deaton said. "Yet you did. What do you make of that yourself, Mister Stilinski?"

Stiles stared at him, his heart thudding fast, threatening to jump straight out of his chest, and his stomach turned. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said faintly.

Derek was just in time to shove a bucket underneath him before his stomach started revolting viciously.

* * *

 _He'd brought the Nemeton back to life._

After he'd finished throwing up, Deaton had finished his explanation. The Nemeton had been mourning for years, only able to sustain the forest and the wards with the help of Deaton.

But then Stiles had sent out a call for help and the Nemeton had responded, reacting to the one Elemental Fox nobody had realised was in their midst. The tree had flourished, springing back to life, eagerly bonding itself to the Elemental Fox when he had fallen down exhausted and near death against its roots.

It had lost one Elemental Fox – it wouldn't allow anything else to take away the second one. So, as Stiles' call had also reached the Hales, the Nemeton had come back to life to defend him against Theo. Its roots had wrapped around him, keeping him safe from the prowling panther; that had been the suffocating sensation he'd experienced before passing out.

Theo had been chased down by both furious werewolves and the Nemeton itself. The forest had reacted to the newly awakened source, trying to trip Theo and trap him. Both parties had nearly succeeded, but Theo had managed to stumble out of the woods just in time for his mysterious partner to pick him up in a car.

The Nemeton hadn't wanted to release Stiles at first apparently. The roots had been wrapped tightly around him and it had only been when Talia had appeared as well, touching the Nemeton, that the tree had relinquished its hold on the fox, allowing Derek to rush him to the hospital.

The Nemeton was the reason why Theo had come here. Presumably he'd wanted to take control over it with the ritual, which would have granted him immeasurable power, allowing him to do whatever he wanted.

"What did he need me for then? If he just wanted the Nemeton, there was no reason for him to go after me," Stiles had said, having reeled on the edge of another panic attack.

"While almost nobody knew Claudia was an Elemental Fox, that does not mean nobody could have done some research," Deaton had said calmly, although he'd also sounded a tad condescending which had made Stiles bristle offended. "All surrounding towns know of the Nemeton and how it had been flourishing for years until it had abruptly fell in mourning. If one thought to check the obituaries around that time, they might have reached the reasonable conclusion that your mother might have had some sort of link to it. Would they have known for sure she was an Elemental Fox? That I doubt, because there are quite some people who can form a bond with a spiritual source. An Elemental Fox is but one of them."

"But why did he come after me? Even if he knew my mom had something to do with it, he couldn't have known that I – that I would be the same as she." Hell, he hadn't even known he was apparently an Elemental Fox! How the fuck could Theo have known?

"It stands to reason that you might have inherited what made her special." Deaton had studied him thoughtfully. "Not an odd guess to make. As I mentioned before: Elemental Foxes are considered to spread fortune to those around them. One who's fortunate enough to mate with them, would find themselves considerably more powerful. If you can count a spiritual source underneath your control as well … I shudder to think what he might have been planning to do with all that power."

He'd been nothing but a tool to gather more power. Theo hadn't gone after him because he liked him or even because he just wanted to screw over a Hale. No, he'd singled out Stiles and had gone after him, because Stiles was a key to more power.

It wasn't as if he'd been love with Theo, had never even liked him even when he hadn't been aware yet that he'd been the serial killer all along. But it made him feel sick to the core to know that he'd been _used_ all just for a power boost. Like this was just a videogame Theo had been playing and Stiles had been one of those tools that could give him a power up.

It had never been about him, but about _what he was_.

The worst thing was that he hadn't even been aware he was considered something special!

Knowing what he knew now, it made sense to him why his mom had been so fond of that clearing with the big tree. Because the tree had still been alive back then, he recalled now with perfect clarity. The tree had been a stump for so long, he'd forgotten that once upon a time, a time when his mom had still been alive and well, the stump had been a huge, flourishing tree, with branches so long, they swayed across the ground and hid them from view whenever they had settled themselves against the sturdy, thick trunk.

Then his mom had died and the tree had withered and died seemingly overnight, leaving nothing but a stump behind and dead, rotten leaves.

The tree stump was no longer there now.

Instead he stood in front of a magnificent, imposing tree, which towered high above all the other ones, making them look like insignificant dwarves. The trunk was thrice as wide as him and they would need at least three to four people to be able to form a complete circle around it. The leaves were a bright green and narrow like blades, attached to long, thick branches. Some of those were long enough to brush their tips across the forest floor, stirring up grass and leaves.

As he stood there, staring at it, he felt it calling out to him, cooing reassuringly. Its branches gently strained forwards as if they wanted to engulf him in an embrace, welcoming him back after so long. He could feel its power thrumming all around him, from deep within the earth, to high above the sky; everything to its deepest core singing with it.

The Nemeton was alive once more and it wanted everyone to know.

"I did that," he said quietly.

The resurgence of the Nemeton was the reason why he'd been still in pain when he'd woken up at the hospital. His body had already been fighting the poison and had been helpless to stop the Nemeton from sapping his energy, using it to restore itself. It hadn't taken everything, because that would have meant killing Stiles, but it'd taken enough for his healing to slow down significantly, his body struggling to cope with the sudden loss of energy.

A stick cracked in two behind him when the other one drew closer.

"You did," Derek agreed softly and came to stand next to him, studying the Nemeton warily.

"Did your mom know? About my mom?" Stiles kept his eyes fixed on the tree in front of him, even when he felt the Beta's gaze momentarily resting on him.

"She admitted to knowing that there was an Elemental Fox living here, but she didn't know who it was," Derek replied. "She agreed to keep your identity a secret from the town, just like Claudia's secret was kept safe."

"And the rest of your family?" Stiles ignored the part about keeping his identity safe; it didn't matter to him. Not at this point anyway. Not when he was still reeling from everything he'd learnt the past couple of days. He'd freak out about it later when he had time to process it probably. One thing at a time now.

"We didn't know." Derek shook his head before he paused and added wryly, "Well, Peter might have. It wouldn't surprise me, given how much he relishes knowing things others don't."

Stiles nodded. That made sense. Peter seemed like that type of guy. "My dad didn't know," he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Told me that he'd always thought there was something different about mom, but he just figured that was because she was the love of his life and therefore would be different from everyone else. I don't know who's freaking out more about this to be honest: him or me." He breathed out slowly and licked his lips.

Dad hadn't wanted to let him go to the clearing, insisting he still needed to rest. But Stiles had been going crazy cooped up in the house after several days of being stuck in the hospital and only his promise that someone would accompany him had made dad relent. Dad would probably have offered to join him, but he was engaged in a battle with the council as they tried to decide what to do with Stiles now that his supposed partner had fled the town.

Apparently having a serial killer as a Courting Partner and being almost killed by him was not grounds for immediate termination of the Courting, imagine that. Stiles had always known the council was a bunch of backwards fucktards, but at the moment he was glad to let his dad fight his battles for him.

He just needed some time away from all the Courting bullshit, didn't want to think about Theo and what was going to happen now just yet.

So he'd wanted to leave the house and had been about to call Scott, asking him whether he was up to a stroll in the woods, when Derek had rung the doorbell, offering Stiles another choice as companion. The choice had been rather easy in the end.

"What are you thinking?" Derek asked quietly, turning to face him.

"Just … How fucked up everything is now, I guess." Stiles shrugged and wearily dragged a hand through his hair. "I found out I'm apparently a rare breed and that's the reason why Theo decided to go after me. Like I'm nothing but a tool, some kind of power boost. I never liked him, but it would have been one thing if he'd gone after me because he actually liked me. To find out that I was just something he could use to become more powerful …" he trailed off and swallowed, blinking rapidly.

"And now I somehow brought this stump back to life which turns out to be some kind of powerful magical artifice and god knows what's going to happen next. My mom knew what she was doing, but I don't and I've got nobody to ask anymore." His voice grew thick at the end and he took a shuddering breath, wiping the back of his hand roughly underneath his nose.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Derek. I really don't know."

He'd always been that guy who had a plan A, a plan B if something went awry, then a plan C if plan B somehow didn't work out and so on. He was a planner, he knew things, he'd always known what to do, even if he'd been uncertain at times.

He knew nothing anymore. He had no clue what he was going to do now. Now that he was apparently an Elemental Fox and the Nemeton had bounded to him, what was he supposed to do? With Theo still running around freely somewhere, what could he do?

For the first time in his life he had no idea what to do, not even the slightest inkling, and _that scared him._

Arms wrapped around him, strong muscled ones, not the spidery long ones still longingly reaching out to him. Derek pulled him close, brushed his nose against Stiles' temple and he started slowly rubbing up and down over Stiles' back.

"You take it one day at a time. And we'll be there to help you, every step of the way," Derek murmured.

Stiles closed his eyes when he felt lips pressing against his temple now, a searing brand against his skin.

" _I'_ ll be there for you every step of the way."

The promise hung between them, binding them, while the Nemeton's power buzzed and hummed around him, giving a silent promise of its own.

* * *

 **AN2: I hope it wasn't too bad!**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note: Managed to finish it just now, so yay me? *coughs* Anyway, I hope it doesn't come across as too rushed.**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Digidestined10; babyvfan; Myxes; Almondweb; Leo Gelly**

 **Warnings: Some angst at the start; reference to non-con elements which occured earlier into the story; bit of fluff at the end**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 19_

"You heard anything from the Council yet?" Scott asked, squeezing absentmindedly in a tennis ball he'd found somewhere in the room.

"No," Stiles replied curtly, dumping two handfuls of candy wrappers in the garbage bag.

He was officially moving back into his own room after weeks of staying at Erica's place. She'd insisted she wouldn't mind if he stayed longer, but he felt awkward basically butting in on her quality time with her mate and with Theo out of town, there was no reason anymore to not return home.

He was cleaning out his room at the moment, both out of need to do something to work off his incessant energy and to get rid of Theo's scent, no matter how faint it had become. He just needed everything to be _clean_.

"Did your dad tell them that Theo has tried to get him killed?" Scott questioned warily.

"He did, yeah," Stiles confirmed, dropping the bag against the wall before attacking the bunch of papers spread out over his desk. "Told them that Theo tried to get him and Parrish killed, told them that he tried to kill me, how he killed all those other people. He told them that Cora was kidnapped by him and would have been killed as well if I hadn't found her on time."

"And they still don't think that the Courting process should be annulled between you two?" Scott asked in disbelief, gaping.

"Apparently not." Stiles snorted bitterly and glared down at the papers he'd used as practice for his letters to the various colleges and universities he'd applied to a few months ago. "They said that as long as Theo hasn't got a trial, he's considered innocent until proven guilty, which means they don't want to annul the process."

He'd been ready to punch something to a pulp when dad had tersely told him the news two days ago. They had more than enough proof and testaments from eye witnesses – his and Cora's and the other Hales who'd gone after him – to throw him in prison for the rest of his miserable life because there was just no denying he'd done all that terrible shit, yet the Council still insisted it wasn't enough.

It made him darkly wonder whether they would still have the same opinion if one of their family members had been killed. Somehow he had the suspicion that Theo wouldn't have been innocent until proven guilty if that had been the case. Fuck them.

"But you've got all the proof and everything," Scott said confused. "What more do they want?"

"Seeing Theo murder someone in front of them?" Stiles shrugged and turned around, leaning against the chest with his butt. Crossing his arms, he added bitterly, "Although even then they might claim that he was doing it out of defence or so."

"What a bunch of dicks," Scott said flatly, frowning. He then perked up. "But your dad will get them to see sense, I'm sure of it. I doubt he'll let them get away with it. And then you can finally go out with Derek!"

"If Derek still wants me," Stiles muttered underneath his breath.

Apparently it wasn't quiet enough, because Scott's frown deepened. "Hey man, of course he still wants you. Mom literally had to kick him out of your room when you're were unconscious at the hospital. Then she had to kick your dad out and between you and me, I'm not sure who put up the most resistance."

A reluctant smile tugged at Stiles' lips and his friend grinned. "Trust me, I might not know him as well as you do, but everyone at the hospital could see how far gone he is for you."

"Now if only the Council would hurry up and stop being such dickheads," Stiles sighed aggravatedly.

The Beta shrugged. "Even if they keep being difficult about it, the Courting itself is just a formality. If you don't want it, there's not much they can do about it."

"True, the times you could get thrown into jail for it are fortunately behind us." Although now the Council might be longing back for those days. According to Parrish, who'd come to pick up the Sheriff this morning, dad had been raising quite some hell the past couple of days at the Council's estate.

His phone ringing startled them both and when he wrestled it out of his jeans, 'DAD' was flashing across the screen.

"Hey, dad, what's up?" he greeted, studying the papers one more time before throwing them in the cardboard box, where he would collect all the papers he didn't need anymore to throw them away.

"Just got done talking with the Council. Again," Dad added darkly, sounding beyond fed up.

He couldn't really blame him. "Let me guess: they're still refusing?" He grimaced and Scott wrinkled his nose.

"They wanted to, but I finally convinced them it was in everyone's best interest if your Courtship got annulled," Dad answered to his great surprise.

"What did you do? Threatened them?" he joked incredulously.

"Just reminded them that I'm the Sheriff and out of everyone in this town, I would know best who's guilty and who not," Dad replied almost flippantly.

"That almost sounds like you've got blackmail on them," Stiles snickered, but when his dad didn't immediately scoff, he abruptly stopped laughing. "Wait, you seriously have blackmail on them?"

"Don't worry about what I may or may not have on them," Dad said lightly. "The important thing is that your Courtship is now annulled and you don't have to worry about that part anymore. Meaning you and Derek can go out any time you want – within reasonable hours, of course," he added.

"Thanks, dad," he said softly; a wave of gratitude for his amazing dad sweeping over him. Man, he really was lucky to have him as a dad.

"It was nothing. I'll see you tonight. Did you pick up all your stuff from your friend's place yet?"

"Yeah, I'm just cleaning my room now before putting everything back," Stiles confirmed, watching Scott going back to the tennis ball. He started throwing it from one hand to the other one.

"You cleaning your room out of your own free will? Miracles still happen," Dad joked and he rolled his eyes.

"Very funny," he huffed.

"I'll leave you to it then before you lose your motivation."

"Mean, but fine. I'll see you tonight." He hung up after another round of goodbyes and threw the phone on the bed. "You heard it, right?"

"Yep, I'm glad for you, dude," Scott grinned. "Now you and Derek can go out whenever you want!"

"Yep." The thought of that had butterflies racing and tumbling through his stomach. Things had looked so bleak for him just a week ago with Theo hellbent on keeping him trapped and while the Alpha was still out there, probably brooding on revenge, at least now he had something to look forward to: _a date with Derek_.

"Have you heard back from college yet?" Scott's voice broke through his thoughts and he blinked; ideas of how he could spend his date with Derek instantly evaporating as he sobered up.

"Yeah, this morning. They agreed to let me take some of the classes online instead." He and dad had talked about it after he'd woken up. He would love nothing more than to just go and attend college like all his other friends would soon be doing, but as long as Theo wasn't caught, dad didn't think it would be a good idea for him to go.

He understood that, the whole reasoning behind it, really he did. Even though the college was nearby, the trip back and forth would still keep him on the road for a while and he would be considered vulnerable when attending classes. They could hardly send a deputy with him every time either.

So the decision had been made to ask the college whether he couldn't take some classes online. That way he would still be able to start on time on his new studies, but he would be able to do that from the safety of his own home. The college had agreed once they'd reviewed the reason and had turned some of the courses into online ones. The other ones he would be able to take up once Theo was locked up.

It sucked that he would have to do it like this for the unforeseeable time, but it was better than nothing he supposed. It wasn't like he had much choice.

"Well, at least they're not being difficult about it," Scott smiled encouragingly.

At least one of them was optimistic. "I suppose that's the upside," Stiles agreed, wrinkling his nose.

Scott's phone buzzed and he looked down on it; a goofy smile instantly appearing on his face. Stiles didn't even need to ask to know that Kira had just texted him; his friend's face was telling enough.

"Kira texted you?" Stiles asked knowingly.

Scott blushed and cleared his throat, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "Er, yeah, I promised I would help her pack her stuff; she's leaving at the end of the week."

"Go then," Stiles snorted, waving him away.

"Are you sure? I can stay." Scott stood up, visibly wavering and that was good enough for Stiles, knowing that his best friend – head over heels as he was for his girlfriend – was still considering staying with him instead of immediately abandoning him.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Go, shoo, I'll be fine. I'm just going to keep cleaning here anyway, so it's going to get very boring for you," Stiles grinned, clapping his shoulder.

"All right, thanks, man," Scott grinned back and gave him a one armed hug before bounding away like an excited puppy.

Stiles shook his head and snorted, listening to the Beta going down the stairs before the front door opened and closed. A couple of seconds later his motor roared to life and he drove off.

"All right." He clapped his head and stared at his desk. "Let's get you completely free from any clutter!"

His desk would probably be covered underneath paper and other shit by the end of the week most likely, but it was the effort which counted, he was sure.

And after he was finished … Well, he had someone to ask out for a date.

Grinning, he returned back to cleaning. It was good to have a great incentive.

* * *

He'd kept the space underneath his bed for last, because well … He kind of didn't want to know what exactly was underneath there. He couldn't remember whether he'd actually thrown some stuff under there in the past couple of months, but it could be possible and he wasn't looking forward to finding out what exactly was stored there.

To his pleasant surprise, when he knelt down and peeked under the bed, he only spotted a collection of dust bunnies and something small against the right leg of his bed. Huh, not as bad as he thought it would be. Yay him!

He used the vacuum to suck up the dust bunnies and then poked the vacuum's wand against the unknown object until it rolled towards him. It turned out to be an empty medicine bottle and he furrowed his eyebrows, snatching it off the floor and heaving himself up.

The label on it informed him it was a bottle of suppressants and that confused him, because he kept his bottle on his desk and always threw it in the trashcan immediately once it was empty. He couldn't remember losing a bottle underneath his bed.

His eyes flicked to the new bottle standing on his desk. Because the Wolfsbane had to be purged from his body, the suppressant he'd received in the form of the injection had been flushed out too; the treatment aiming on flushing anything out that wasn't already naturally present in the body. He'd been given the choice of getting yet another injection or going back on his regular suppressant pill and he'd chosen for the latter. With Theo out of his life for now he didn't have to worry about anyone messing with his pills, so he'd gone back to that form.

He would never be a fan of needles, so hell yes, he was back on his pills.

Still … His gaze drifted back to the empty bottle in his hand. It was odd to find it back underneath his bed when he was in the habit of throwing it out as soon as he'd taken the last pill. He rolled the bottle around, studying it and for some reason his attention was drawn to the date printed on it.

The fourth of June … That was weird.

Nibbling on his lower lip, he stared at the printed date, doing the math in his head. He always got his prescription filled for three months and he'd picked up a refill in April. His next refill would have been in July, so there was no reason for the bottle to have been filled in June. He never messed up the dates of his refills; he'd even had it marked on his calendar and had a reminder set up on his phone.

So why was the bottle …

He dropped down heavily on the bed and clapped a hand over his mouth when realisation hit him. His first heat had started unexpectedly at the end of June. He'd known there was something wrong with that, because after getting on the suppressants, he never had a heat in June anymore. But at the time, waking up confused and worried and completely unaware of what the hell had happened, he'd assumed that he'd gone through Heat Exposure.

Because that had been the only thing that had made sense at the time.

Theo had agreed that must have been the case.

Theo, who he'd accused of messing with the injection he'd received after the first heat, who hadn't denied the accusation in the first place, who'd been oddly insistent that Erica let him talk to Stiles when he was experiencing his second heat …

He _knew_ Theo had messed with the injection. So why couldn't he also have messed with his pills?

Theo had been asking questions about his suppressants at the start of June, he remembered, feeling sick. He'd dismissed his questions at the time as nothing but naïve curiosity from an Alpha who didn't have to deal with suppressants, but … What if they hadn't been naïve?

What if he'd been asking those questions to know what kind of suppressants he would have to deal with?

This couldn't be a coincidence, right?

Theo had asked him at the start of June about his suppressants, this bottle had been filled at the start of June, and at the end of that same month, Stiles had unexpectedly been thrown into a heat.

A heat that had felt way worse than ever before, because his body had been forced into it after unknowingly having taken the wrong pills.

And Theo had been there from the start. He'd been the one to bring Stiles home once he started feeling unwell, knowing full well what was happening, but pretending to be oblivious.

Then when the heat had finally stopped and Stiles had come up with his explanation as to why it could have happened, Theo had gone along with it.

If he'd messed with the injection, he'd most definitely messed with the pills. The proof was staring right back at him from the middle of his palm. Theo had exchanged his suppressants with either faulty ones or placebos and then just had to wait until Stiles fell into a heat.

He must have dropped the bottle by accident, maybe Stiles had almost caught him when he'd been doing the exchange, or he just hadn't cared about it, so certain that he would have trapped Stiles with a pregnancy by the time his plan would have discovered.

He'd knowingly forced Stiles into a heat so that he could, so that he could …

He barely dragged the trashcan to him just in time to throw up.

* * *

"I talked with Doctor Hope." Dad sat down next to him on the couch in his office, leaning forwards to catch his eye.

"What did she say?" Stiles asked, fiddling with the buttons of his plaid shirt. He couldn't look his dad in the eye, fearing he would get sick again any second now.

"She assured me that given your lack of – discomfort when you woke up and the negative test, no actual intercourse happened between you two," Dad murmured and someone else might think he sounded calm, but Stiles could easily pick up the suppressed rage running like an undercurrent in his voice. It was there in the way the corners of his eyes tightened, in the way he flattened his lips when he stopped speaking.

In the way his hands occasionally twitched as if he wanted to put them around something and squeeze down.

"So, he didn't … Nothing actually …" Stiles tried to bring out the words, but they were harder than he'd expected, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara and he blinked rapidly, looking away.

A heavy, reassuring arm came to rest around his shoulders. "No, Stiles. He might have done other things, but he didn't go that far."

"Oh, thank fuck," Stiles gasped out and braced his elbows on his knees, leaning forwards as he pressed his eyes shut.

He was still – he was still a virgin after all. Theo hadn't actually fucked him. He might have tried, maybe with his fingers, but he'd never penetrated him with anything else than that and …

He knew it was ridiculous to be so relieved when that son of a bitch had still assaulted him, had tried to rape him, but the fact that he hadn't managed to go that far, that he hadn't managed to take that away from Stiles, his first time, the one he'd fantasised about sharing with Derek once they were together …

 _He hadn't taken everything from him._

"Why – why didn't she say that immediately? I asked her, when she did the check-up, and she said – she said she wasn't sure." God, it would have spared him a lot of grief and anger if she'd told him that from the start.

"She said she hadn't been entirely sure about that until she got your negative test results. That's when she knew for sure, because if intercourse had happened during your heat, you would have ended up pregnant." Dad's arm tightened around him. "Not that that excuses that bastard for what he did to you," he added darkly.

Stiles had no doubt that if Theo had been standing in front of them now, dad would have shot him without asking questions first.

Once he'd stopped feeling like he would expel his entire stomach through his mouth, he'd gone straight to the precinct with the bottle to tell his dad everything. When dad had asked him questions about Theo last week, Stiles had told him about the call Theo had made right before dad and Parrish had been hit by a car, given them proof that the Alpha had also tried to kill them.

He hadn't told dad about the fact that he'd suspected Theo of messing with his injection. It hadn't seemed necessary back then, because dad had still looked haggard, close to collapsing while driven by fury at the same time and he hadn't wanted to add even more shit when his dad had obviously been threading the edge of sanity already.

He also hadn't wanted to tell him out of shame. Because he'd kept that secret for so long; because he hadn't wanted his dad to think it was somehow his fault as he hadn't been able to figure out that no strange scents in his son's bedroom meant that the person messing with him had to be someone they knew.

Because it wasn't. Theo had fooled both of them and Stiles had only figured out his plan by a stroke of luck, because Theo had been pushing him too much.

He'd figured that he could keep quiet about the whole suppressants deal, that the police had enough proof to get him thrown behind bars for years.

Finding the bottle in his room, however …

Something had snapped in him. He couldn't keep quiet about it any longer.

So he'd driven to the precinct, had gone straight to his dad's office and had told him everything he remembered, from Theo's suspicious questions to the empty bottle he'd found in his room and why there was something wrong with that.

To say dad had been pissed off was the understatement of the year. He actually had gone into another room for a while, because he'd been so furious he hadn't trusted himself not to do anything stupid.

He hadn't been furious at his son, of course. No, all his fury was aimed at the one son of a bitch who'd dared to hurt his only son.

Stiles so didn't want to be in Theo's shoes when dad finally caught him.

Once he'd calmed down enough, dad had ordered Parrish to find out how Theo had been able to get a refill of suppressants when he was an Alpha and the pharmacist knew Stiles' schedule after serving him for several years already.

As it turned out, Theo's little brother had been an Omega as well – had been, because he had died three years ago in an accident. Theo had used the excuse of getting a refill for his little brother to get a hold on the suppressants, most likely already knowing by then that the factory had fucked up. Apparently their fuck up had been communicated, but only on certain channels and definitely not broadly enough that all their clients would have been warned about it.

It was rather upsetting to realise that Theo would even use his own dead little brother to get what he wanted.

After that discovery, dad had made an appointment with Doctor Hope to ask her questions about the examination she'd performed on Stiles, wanting to know once and for all just what exactly Theo had done to him during those days he'd been completely out of it.

At least now he knew for certain that the asshole hadn't succeeded in taking everything from him.

"He's going to pay for this, I promise," Dad said softly and pulled him into a hug. "I don't care how long it takes, we'll find him and we'll make him pay."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you this earlier," Stiles mumbled and swallowed, pressing his face in dad's neck, inhaling his comforting scent.

A hand started rubbing over his back. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, son, trust me. I'm glad you came to me. We'll get him, I swear."

Stiles nodded and buried his fingers into dad's jacket; the material crinkling underneath his grip.

They sat there for a while, the hustle and bustle of the deputies working muted by the closed door. Stiles slowly relaxed, surrounded by his dad's familiar scent. He'd felt awful confessing that ugly secret, but now after everything was done and said, a huge weight seemed to have been lifted off his shoulders.

Theo had tried to take everything from him, but he hadn't succeeded and that was something he was going to remember. That he needed to remember when dark thoughts started to push their way through again.

That he needed to hold on to when he woke up yet again from a nightmare in which he was clawing at dark fur while sharp fangs ripped him apart; the world on fire around them.

No matter what Theo had attempted to do, he hadn't succeeded and that was something Stiles was going to remember.

"If you need someone to talk to," Dad started, but Stiles shook his head and pulled back.

"I know but," he breathed out slowly, "I think I'll be fine. I just … need to work this out on my own. But if I need to talk, can I come to you?"

"Of course you can, Stiles, whenever you need me," Dad immediately said, squeezing his arm gently. "No matter what hour, day or night, you need me and I'll be there."

"Thanks," Stiles smiled and sniffled, standing up. "Now, I think I'm going to leave before I ruin my reputation by crying like a kid."

"What reputation?" Dad joked and stood up as well. "I've still got a few hours left, but you're welcome to stay if you want. I'll even pretend not to notice how you snoop through the files." His eyes twinkled teasingly.

"Who's snooping through files here? Not me, that's for sure," Stiles sniffed, punching him lightly against his arm. "Thanks for the gracious offer, but I need to go to someone now."

"Oh, got any plans?" Dad raised an eyebrow.

"Not yet," Stiles told him cheerfully and grabbed his keys from dad's desk. "But I'm hoping I will have some soon."

Only one way to find out. He needed something good to distract him from the shit show his life was turning into.

* * *

Laura blinked when she opened the door, dressed in a too large shirt and shorts, and he grinned, experiencing a strange sense of déjà vu for some reason.

"Hey Laura, how's it going? I want to speak to Derek."

She smirked and leant against the doorframe with crossed arms. "I bet you do. Took you longer than I had expected. I thought you two would be frolicking a-"

"Laura," Derek growled, clasping a hand across her mouth from behind. She then probably licked his hand, because he snarled and pushed her away, wiping his hand across his shirt. "Oh, gross! How old are you, eight?"

She grinned, for once not rising to the bait, and waggled her fingers at them. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone then. I warn you, though: you've got three minutes to say what you want. That's the amount of time I can give you before I let Uncle Peter loose on you two." She basically skipped to the living room.

Stiles stared after her. "Man, already threatening to sic Peter on us. What did you do to piss her off?" he asked blankly.

Derek pursed his lips before huffing annoyed and rolling his eyes. "I ate the last waffle this morning."

"And that was the waffle I'd been saving for today, you greedy bastard!" Laura hissed from the living room. "You've got two minutes and forty-five seconds left, dipshit."

 _Ah siblings_. Sometimes Stiles counted himself lucky to be an only child. Come to think of it, his dad probably considered himself to be lucky too.

"Don't mind her; she's sulking because the barista she's crushing on turned out to have a girlfriend already," Derek said dismissively.

"I was not crushing on him!" she snapped and a book was thrown at the door, landing spread open on the floor. "Two minutes and thirty seconds!"

Derek just shook his head and then looked at him expectantly. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Well, more like wanted to ask you something," Stiles said and cleared his throat, inexplicably nervous all of a sudden.

 _He just needed this one good thing in his life …_

"Okay?" Derek offered him a small smile. "What do you want to ask?"

They both ignored Laura's groaned, "Oh my god, isn't that obvious?"

"I was thinking that maybe, you know, now that the Council got their heads out of their asses finally or well more like my dad threatened them into pulling them out of their asses – did you know by the way that apparently my dad has blackmail on them? I didn't know – whichever the case, it doesn't matter, because the most important thing is that they annulled the whole Courtship thingy so that means I'm a free man now and you know, I was wondering, you don't have to say yes of course, feel free to say no if you don't feel the same. I'm not going to force you, because that would be a big no no, but I'm still hoping your answer is the same as a few months ago, because otherwise this is going to be so embarrassing and - "

"Stiles," Derek said, raising an eyebrow and he flushed when he realised how much he was rambling.

Oh god, they were off to a great start already.

"Right, right, I didn't mean to, you know how I get, my mouth – so, what I wanted to know is whether you want to go on a date? Like with me? Like do you want to go out on a date with me?" Stiles squeaked and wanted the ground to open up and swallow him, because fuck, that had to be the worst, most embarrassing way ever to ask someone out.

What the hell was wrong with him?!

Derek's smile widened a tad; his eyes gleaming. "Yes, I want to go out on a date with you."

"Really? You mean it? You're not just saying this because you're pitying me or - "

A pair of firm lips cut him off, making him swallow the rest of his words, and oh god, yeah, he thought he could get pretty used to this.

As Derek deepened their kiss, pulling him close against his muscled, sculpted by the gods themselves, body, Stiles thought dazedly, _Hell yes, I can get used to this._

And it looked like he would get the chance to get used to it very soon.

 _He was going on a date with Derek Hale. Holy shit._

* * *

 **AN2: Like I said, I hope it doesn't come across as rushed. Stiles seems the type to want to push off thinking about his trauma for as long as he can (not recommended of course) so that's why he's acting like this in the chapter. I hope that makes sense!**

 **But at least he and Derek are finally going to have their first date! Any ideas what you would like their first date to be? ^^**

 **Please leave your thoughts - and any potential date ideas - behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note: This chapter was giving me a bit of trouble for some reason, but I somehow still managed to write nearly 5K for it. Apologies for the slight delay. Also this fic is officially one year old already! *sweatdrops* Time flies, damn.**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Digidestined10; yukino76; Myxes; babyvfan; klick32**

 **Warnings: Some fluff, a bit of angst**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **A special thanks to Morgan_ReidismyOTP for giving me the idea for the date!**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 20_

"I need your help," he blurted out as soon as the phone was picked up on the other end.

"Last time you needed my help, you almost died," Lydia said bluntly. "I'm not sure whether I'm feeling inclined to help you again after that."

He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that, but I swear there's no possibility of dying involved this time! Unless I completely embarrass myself and I die from shame – but at least it won't be from anything dangerous."

There was silence on the other end of the line before she heaved a deep sigh. "Okay, I bite: what the hell did you do this time?"

"I asked Derek out on a date."

"And? Good job, got yourself quite a looker there. Don't see what that has to do with me unless you want my opinion about him."

"I've got no idea what we can do for our first date," he groaned and sank down on his bed. "I was hoping that maybe you could give me some tips?"

"You want _me_ to give you tips for _your_ first date with Hale," she said incredulously.

"When you put it like that, it does sound stupid," he said and grimaced. "But I've been thinking for hours about what we could do and I'm coming up with nothing!"

"When's the date planned?"

"Today, this afternoon."

Another lengthy silence, this time filled with a lot of judgment. "Your date is today and you're only calling me now?" she asked frostily.

"Look, I only asked him out yesterday and it's not like I wanted to wait too long to have our first date and yeah," he finished lamely, tugging at his hair. "Please, help me, I'm desperate here!"

"You're an idiot," she sighed. "I suppose a movie is out of the question? I'm going to assume you at least thought of that before calling me." The edge in her voice warned him that his answer better be yes.

"Of course I thought about that!" he retorted insulted. "But that's rather cliché and I'm trying to avoid clichés here. I want it to be memorable, you know?"

"A date with you would be memorable whatever you choose to do, Stiles," she said dryly.

He squinted. "Somehow I get the feeling that's not exactly meant as a compliment."

"Take it however you want," she said dismissively. "A picnic?"

"Eh." There was nothing wrong with a picnic, but it didn't feel special enough. It would be a good idea for a later date, but for a first one he needed something different.

"An amusement park?"

"Cliché, Lydia, remember?"

"Oh, for god's sake, fine," she snapped and was silent for a while then to the point that he was starting to wonder whether she was still on the phone or not.

"Lydia? You still there?"

"Aha! I've got it. If you don't like this idea, then you're most welcome to ask someone else," she said triumphantly. "Miniature golf."

"Miniature golf …" he repeated slowly and furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't even know how to play regular golf decently, and you want me to play that?"

"It's literally just a smaller version of regular golf – not even you can mess that up," she said exasperatedly.

"You have seen me play lacrosse, right? I'm not sure whether me playing golf, smaller version or not, would be a good idea," he said dubiously. Knowing his luck he would either knock himself out with the golf club or god forbid, Derek. He'd sustained and delivered enough injuries throughout his years of playing lacrosse to know that him and sports requiring any kind of stick and ball didn't really mix.

Her loud growl had him jumping even if the sound was slightly distorted. "Then let Derek teach you!"

"Can he play golf?" Derek didn't seem like the kind of guy who would regularly go out to play golf. Basketball or even baseball, yeah, he had no trouble imagining that, but golf?

"Of course he can play golf."

"How do you even know that?" he questioned bemused. As far as he could tell, Lydia and Derek had never interacted with each other – definitely not to the point when she would know something like that.

"His mother is the mayor and he accompanied her a couple of times to some charity events where they played that game. They report about every charity event the Hales attend, how could you not know that?" she chided him.

"Because I'm not very interested in charity events," he grimaced. He'd accompanied his dad to some in the past, but they had been so boring that he had eventually begged to be allowed to stay home.

"Well, that's on you. Now, miniature golf and Derek teaching you how not to knock someone out with the club, how does that sound?" she asked impatiently.

He tried to imagine it, him holding the club, the white ball right in front of him, and Derek – he'd probably stand behind him, wouldn't he? In order to teach him how to swing the club correctly. He'd be standing right behind him, maybe even grabbing his hands to put them in the right position and his body would be very close against his own, the wolf's heat seeping into his and …

He only became aware of the fact that he was spacing out – and almost drooling, ew – when Lydia started calling out his name in an increasingly more agitated manner. "Huh, sorry, what?"

"I wanted to know whether you think that's a good idea for a date, but I'm going to assume by your silence that you agree with it. You were imagining it already, weren't you?" she asked smugly.

"Maybe," he admitted begrudgingly before he grinned. "Thanks, Lydia! This will definitely make for a memorable first date!"

"Don't think I'm done with you yet," she said unimpressed and er, what? What did that even mean? "You called me for help, so I'm going to help you."

"But you already did – by giving me the idea," he said slowly, getting wary. He was starting to think it might not have been such a good idea after all to ask her for help.

"Oh, sweetheart, but I'm not done yet," she said condescendingly. "I'm going to help you get properly dressed for your first date. Dress to impress, remember?"

"What's wrong with my clothes?" he complained and looked down with a frown, staring at his faded Batman t-shirt, flannel shirt and his light brown chinos. What was wrong with that combination? "And wait, don't you need to leave tomorrow for university?"

"The fact that you even need to ask that first question proves you're in dire need of my assistance," she sniffed. "I don't have any packing left to do – as I don't procrastinate unlike some – so I have plenty of time left to help you find a decent outfit for this afternoon."

"Ehm, how are you going to help me find that?" he asked warily, hoping that she would just come over and riffle through his wardrobe. He'd take all the criticism about his clothes she would throw at him, as long as she didn't take him –

"We're going shopping, of course," she replied brightly and yeah, that was what he'd been afraid of.

"You know, we don't need to do that. I'm sure I've got some decent clothes here somewhere and –" he was cut off by an actual hiss, like an enraged cat would spit, and he immediately shut his mouth.

"We're going shopping and you're going to look amazing."

Only Lydia could manage to make a promise like that sound both so ominous and threatening at the same time.

* * *

"All right, just get out and ring the doorbell, that's all there is to it," he muttered underneath his breath, trying to psych himself up. His fingers were clenched around the steering wheel and he prayed he wouldn't start sweating through his new clothes before he would even get to the house. Lydia would _kill_ him if he ruined the outfit.

"You've already kissed him, there's nothing to be nervous about," he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face, feeling way too frazzled. He'd known Derek for several years now, had even kissed him yesterday and had been all too happy when the older man had initially caught him during the Run – there was no reason to be this damn nervous about a date with the guy.

"Fuck this," he said, annoyed with himself, and pushed open the door. Before he stepped out, he patted Roscoe's steering wheel and whispered, "Don't give up on me today, okay, baby? I really need you to keep going today."

The last thing he could use today of all days was his car giving up on him again.

"Was already starting to think you were having second thoughts," Cora remarked when she opened the door before he could even ring the doorbell. She quirked an eyebrow and her eyes roved over his body in – was that in an appreciative manner? "You actually manage to clean up nicely if you want to."

He threw his hands up in frustration. "What is it with the women in my life criticising my clothes? There's nothing wrong with the way I dress!"

"Opinions differ about that," she told him bluntly before stepping out of the way. "He's all yours, brother."

Derek was rolling his eyes when he came into view. "Thanks, Cora."

Stiles could only stare as the older man walked towards him. He was dressed in dark jeans that seemed to have been painted on him, moulded as they were around his long legs. His Henley was a forest green, matching the green specks in his eyes, and his leather jacket was slung over his right arm. Oh god, Stiles had almost forgotten how hot Derek looked with that leather jackets.

Praise the gods for creating the seasons of autumn and winter, because it allowed him the glorious sight of Derek dressed in a leather jacket.

Shit, how the hell had he ever captured his interest in the first place?

"You look amazing," he blurted out before he could think twice and his cheeks reddened immediately.

The adorable pleased smile flitting across Derek's face did nothing for his poor frazzled nerves. "Thanks, you look really great too."

Stiles would have accused him of just returning the sentiment because he wanted to be polite, but he was highly aware of the way Derek's eyes burned a tad brighter when he looked at him, studying his outfit with keen interest. Thank the gods for Lydia Martin, because she had managed to create a miracle.

She'd forced him into several outfits – it wouldn't surprise him if he had ended up trying on more than fifty different ones in just a couple of hours – before eventually deciding that light blue jeans, a bit tighter than he normally wore, and a tight, red shirt would be the best combination. He'd felt quite self-conscious when looking at just how tight the shirt was – it seriously left nothing to the imagination – and had debated throwing a flannel shirt over it anyways, Lydia's threats be damned, but now looking at the way Derek's eyes flared with interest, he once again had to concede that she'd been right after all.

She always was. He really should just accept that fact.

"Have fun, you two," Cora smirked before sauntering deeper into the house, cackling.

Derek just sighed and flipped her the bird behind her back before shutting the door behind him. "Don't pay attention to her. Now, what do you have in mind for our date?"

Stiles grinned and beckoned him to follow him to his car, anticipation starting to squish his nerves. When they were both in the car and she'd started without too much grumbling – good girl, that was already a great beginning – he glanced at Derek and replied, "We're going to play miniature golf."

Hopefully without too many casualties.

* * *

Miniature golf turned out to be rather fun actually, even though it started drizzling as soon as they left the car. To be honest, in spite of accepting the idea, he'd had his doubts about it, wondering whether he wouldn't end up finding it boring to play.

Whether it was Derek's presence or just the game itself, Stiles had a lot of fun. They had to drive to the next town in order to play it, but it being the middle of the week, it meant that they basically had the whole court to themselves alone. There was only one other guy playing and he was far away enough that their date still felt private.

Derek was quite willing to teach him how to hold the club the best way and how to swing it without maiming either himself or Derek in the process. He actually had to teach Stiles a couple of times, because he kept spacing out the first few times, too distracted by Derek's body close to his and the way his hands covered his own. He'd never noticed until now that Derek's fingers were slightly ticker than his. His skin was also definitely more tanned from the summer than Stiles' own pale skin was. He thought he would come to like that colour contrast very much.

They ended the game when the drizzle turned into a light shower; Derek having won more games than Stiles did, but the Omega thought he'd held up quite nicely considering this was the first time he'd ever played a version of golf.

Derek directed them to a diner where they shared a large basket of curly fries and had the best, juicy hamburgers Stiles had eaten so far. This diner was definitely on his list to go back to if he was in need of something deliciously fried. Derek insisted on paying for their dinner, stating that Stiles had already paid for their game of golf and he was the one who'd chosen the diner. They argued about it for a little while and the sneaky bastard made use of Stiles' toilet break to quickly pay the bill.

Clearly there would be no toilet breaks for Stiles in the future anymore if he ever wanted to get the chance to pay the bill.

The fact that they had that kind of future now made him giddy enough to halt his protesting and instead he just smacked Derek's shoulder once in punishment.

Twilight had settled in by the time Stiles drove them back to the Hale house. The waxing moon was settling in the darkened sky, dipping the world in weak, faint silver light. The curtains in the house were drawn for the most part and from his position in the car, he could see shadows moving behind them, dark forms outlined in the gentle orange light. He wondered if any of them would peek outside; there was no way they hadn't heard his car after all.

"I had fun during our date," Stiles began, breaking the silence. Nerves started attacking him once more and he wished he had a hoodie on so that he could fiddle with the laces.

"Me too," Derek smiled to his relief and he twisted around in his seat to face Stiles.

"Enough for a second date?" Stiles asked hopefully and swallowed; his hands growing clammy. He wiped them off against his jeans, sending a silent apology to Lydia.

"I caught you during the Run and you're wondering whether I had fun enough for a second date?" Derek raised an eyebrow, giving him a deadpan look.

Stiles scowled. "The Run was months ago! That doesn't mean you want - "

For the second time in two days he was abruptly cut off by a pair of warm lips; a strong hand cradling the back of his neck. In the quietness of the car, the sound of their breathing seemed exceptionally loud; the seat squeaking a bit when Derek pressed closer to him. The gear stick dug uncomfortably in his thigh, but Stiles didn't care. Looping his arms around Derek's shoulders, he pressed himself as closely against him as the small space in the car allowed him, kissing him back eagerly.

Derek hummed and the soft vibrations made Stiles' lips tingle; when he parted them, the tip of a tongue touched his carefully, sending a shock through him. It made him tighten his arms around Derek's shoulders, his breathing quickening in anticipation. Heat started pooling in the pit of his stomach, but before things could become heated – and before he could contemplate climbing into Derek's lap – the older man pulled back, panting softly.

Stiles could only stare at the way hazel coloured eyes glittered, like all the stars had been plucked out of the sky to fill those eyes. He didn't even care that that sounded quite sappy.

"You're going to make a habit of interrupting me with a kiss?" he asked, a tad breathless. His arms were still around Derek's neck and his fingers played with the soft strands around his hairline.

"Not only to interrupt you," Derek smirked and then his eyes softened. He lowered his head for a lingering soft kiss. "I'm taking you out for the next date."

"Well, you've got my number," Stiles chuckled awkwardly, his cheeks feeling like they were flaming hot. He hoped he didn't look as flushed as he feared he did.

"I do." Derek's quick smile flashed up in the dark interior of the car and after a third kiss, a soft peck, he pulled back and pushed open the door with a bit more strength than normally should be required to open a car door, but Roscoe was special that way.

"I'll see you soon," he promised and stole another quick kiss before exiting the vehicle.

"You definitely will," Stiles said dazedly, watching Derek walk back to his house. Before he went inside, he turned around and waved, flashing another smile.

Pressing his fingers against his mouth, which was still tingling like mad as if he'd been zapped with electricity instead of having kissed, he watched the front door close. The rain started picking up again, _plick, plick, plick_ on the roof, and he could only think one thing.

 _He was in so deep. Fuck._

* * *

Being with Derek made it easy to forget what kind of a shitfest the previous months had been.

When he was with Derek, he didn't think about Theo. He didn't think about how close he'd come to being shackled down by the man, didn't think about how close he'd been to losing Cora, to losing his freedom. With Derek's arms around him, it was easy to forget how Theo had taken advantage of him when he'd been vulnerable. Derek's lips chased away the disgusting film Theo's mouth had left behind and his strong, warm hands burned Theo's imprints away.

In just a couple of weeks, Derek made him feel better than he'd felt in months and that was something which hadn't escaped dad's attention.

"You're happy with him, huh?" Dad remarked one late afternoon at the beginning of October.

"Hm?" Stiles looked up from lacing his shoes. Derek would be here any second now, so they could go watch a movie at the theatre. They didn't know which one yet; they would pick one when they got there.

He stilled at dad's knowing eyes and flicked his eyes down at his right shoe. "Yeah, he does," he said softly.

Dad squeezed his shoulder on his way to the kitchen. "I'm glad. He's a good man."

"He is," Stiles agreed, smiling.

"That doesn't mean he'll get out of the official meet the parents dinner, though!"

"As long as you don't do the cliché thing and threaten him with your gun."

Dad scoffed. "Please, it's basically my prerogative as your father to do that. What kind of father would I be if I didn't threaten my kid's boyfriend?"

"A good one who would get a steak in exchange?" Stiles said hopefully.

Dad just gave him a deadpan look. "Nice try, kid. No way are you going to take this away from me. Not even steak will get him out of that talk."

Stiles bemoaned the fact that his father had turned out to be the cliché type until Derek knocked on the door, but the truth was that he was secretly happy with his dad's threats. It made him feel like a normal guy with a normal relationship.

Something he had feared he would never have after realising just what kind of person Theo was.

Derek's presence helped a lot, but it wasn't a cure-all. When he wasn't with Derek or chatting to his friends or studying his butt off (because even the online classes were no joke) sometimes thoughts of Theo would manage to creep up on him out of the blue and he'd sit there and just breathe, trying not to fall in the grip of the all consuming panic that was lurking right on the edge.

When those thoughts happened, he called his dad or Derek – the only two who knew the extent of the shit Theo had pulled. He'd been honest about it to Derek, wanting him to know despite being ashamed about it. Theo hadn't managed to hurt him as much as he'd feared he had, but he'd still done things to him and Stiles – he needed Derek to know. One day they would be going further than just kissing and cuddling and Stiles was all for that. Hell, those moments featured in his imagination quite regularly in fact, but the thing was: he didn't know how he would react when their relationship progressed to that point.

He couldn't remember anything that had happened during his heat when Theo had been with him, but he'd been reading articles about it online and he knew that even if he couldn't remember anything, his body still might and if he reacted in a bad way … Derek needed to know it wasn't because of him.

That conversation hadn't been easy and it had left him shaken, feeling raw and bared open for the entire world to see, but it had been necessary. He didn't want any secrets between them. It had been horrible, worse than when he'd told his dad the truth, but in a strange kind of a way it had also made him feel relieved, like the last burden he'd been carrying around unknowingly had finally been discarded.

Derek had been _furious_. Furious to the point that he'd popped his claws and his teeth had lengthened into dangerous sharp fangs. He'd stalked out of the room for a short while and when he'd returned, he'd admitted that he'd come close to losing control. Because he hadn't wanted to scare Stiles, he'd left. Derek could never scare him, though.

His anger had been hot red, close to explosive, but it had made Stiles feel _safe_. Because that anger was _for_ him, a reaction to the awful things Theo had done. Theo might be an Alpha, but Derek's fury was powerful enough to tear him down if he ever got close enough to him, Stiles knew.

It made him feel better, even if the topic of their conversation had left him sick for the rest of the evening.

So no, Derek's presence wasn't an immediate cure-all. Stiles was still plagued by nightmares some nights, still occasionally jumped if he heard an unexpected sound. He'd probably keep looking behind his shoulders until the day came that Theo would be behind bars.

But Derek helped. And that was enough for now.

* * *

He set his alarm for seven a.m., grimacing as he selected the numbers. His online classes gave him a form of freedom when it came to the time he got up in the morning, but he'd promised Derek he would help him move into his new apartment early the next morning. Derek's promise of good coffee and donuts had helped convince him.

Well that and the rather steamy kiss he'd given before the donut promise. Stiles was way too weak when it came to the Beta, much too weak.

Switching off the light, he crawled into his bed and yawned, running fingers through his hair. Outside the rain was picking up and he idly wondered whether it would grow into a storm during the night. He fell asleep listening to the rhythmic ticking of the rain against the window.

When he woke up a while later, he was confused at first, not understanding what had woken him up. Was it morning already? But no, a quick glance at the clock showed that it was barely one in the morning. Huh, weird.

Right when he went to turn around and find a good position to fall asleep in, he became aware of his phone buzzing loudly on his nightstand, announcing that he had messages.

"Scott, if that's you, I'm going to make you regret it, buddy," he muttered irritated, but rolled around to grab his phone nonetheless. Maybe Scott had locked himself outside again. Wouldn't be the first time.

Scott wasn't the one who'd texted him. His heart beating painfully, he stared at the messages greeting him; ringing filling his ears.

' _You're not getting rid of me this easily. We're going to have a nice talk together'_

' _Come to the tree you were so eager to hide in last time'_

' _You better come alone or a certain someone will discover how long his healing lasts'_

The last message was just an attachment with a single picture. _A picture of a bound, unconscious Derek._

How he'd managed to get out of the house without alerting his dad he didn't know. He didn't particularly care either. All he could think of as he raced through the quiet streets, barely keeping his car from slipping on the wet road, was getting to the Nemeton fast enough before Theo could do something to Derek.

 _Theo._

That fucker was back. How the hell had he managed to get back into Beacon Hills without anyone being the wiser? How had he managed to slip through all the police controls without setting off an alarm? Did he have help from inside? Who?

Heart hammering in his chest, he came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the Preserve and barely remembered to shut off the engine before he started running into the woods. The trees towered above him, the darkness swallowing him up, and his breathing was loud, too loud, as he crashed through the forest, rushing past bushes and tripping over roots sticking up from the ground.

The thick scent of fresh fallen rain was everywhere around him, filling his nose, his lungs, his head, and somewhere in the distance some dog barked and an owl hooted. Tiny pin pricks of animals, ones only active at night, greeted him before they scuttled away.

He almost slipped on the wet grass when he finally broke out of the cover of the trees, entering the clearing where the Nemeton stood tall and proudly.

He couldn't immediately spot either Derek or Theo. Where were they?

"Theo?" he called out, cursing himself when his voice wavered and he took a hesitative step forwards. Cold wind brushed against his bare skin and he shuddered, looking up at the sky briefly. Thick clouds obscured the moon and the stars from view.

"I came like you told me to. What do you want to talk about?"

He stopped a few feet away from the Nemeton and looked around. Nothing. Where the hell were they?

Panic threatening to take over, he took another step closer. "Come on, fucker. You called me here and now you're hiding? Fucking coward!"

A shadow moved in the corner of his eye and he whipped his head around, opening his mouth and –

* * *

His eyes shot open and he froze. Rain was pouring down, soaking him to the bone. His pyjamas didn't offer any cover naturally, because – wait, why was he wearing pyjamas? Hadn't he changed his clothes? Hadn't Theo …

Teeth chattering, he patted his pockets and forced his stiff fingers to retrieve his phone. He opened his messages immediately, but … There were none of Theo. The last message he'd received was from Derek wishing him a good night.

Blankly he raised his gaze from his phone to the Nemeton. As if feeling his gaze, the Nemeton's branches rustled and one of them touched Stiles' cheek as if caressing him. The tree buzzed and hummed, seemingly pleased.

"What the hell's going on here?" Stiles whispered in shock.

The Nemeton's buzzing only grew louder in response.

* * *

 **AN2: Any guesses as to what's going on? ^^**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's note: I've been having trouble sleeping this past week and a half, so writing this chapter wasn't an easy feat because my brain was so muddled .-. So if it's not completely up to par, my apologies for that. I still hope it's not too awful!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: out of control with OCs; Digidestined10; yukino76; babyvfan; Almondweb; Myxes**

 **Warnings: hm, nothing in particular I think**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it. I don't own the rights to the movie "The Cabin in the Woods" either.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 21_

"I suspected this might happen," Deaton murmured, nodding thoughtfully.

"And you didn't think to warn me about whatever the hell this was?" Stiles groused; his fingers like claws around his mug of hot chocolate.

He was in the living room of the Hales, trying to warm up after having been in the cold and the rain for at least two hours, if not longer. After finding himself in front of the Nemeton after waking up from that awful nightmare, he'd made his way to the Hales' place, because that one was the closest by. He'd already felt numb from the cold and was completely soaked through; making his way back to his own house would have taken too long.

Talia had been the one to open the door after he'd rung the bell and understandably had been shocked to see him standing there, soaked to the bone at three o'clock in the morning. His dad had been called next and once he'd stuttered out that he'd found himself in front of the Nemeton, she'd called Deaton as well for some reason.

"I don't remember my wife ever sleepwalking to the Nemeton," Dad said flatly. He sat on Stiles' left and had his hand resting on his son's shoulder. For once he didn't remark on Stiles' rudeness towards the druid; he was probably fed up as well with the guy's tendency to withhold information.

"That's because there was never a need for that. She visited the Nemeton regularly enough that it didn't need to resort to measures like this," Deaton replied calmly.

"What measures? Are you telling me that tree gave me that nightmare?" Stiles asked flatly. That nightmare that had felt so real, so horrifyingly real, that he had pinched himself several times already just to make sure he wasn't asleep and that _this_ was reality.

On his other side Derek shifted a bit, but kept his thigh firmly pressed against Stiles'. He'd been the first one downstairs after Talia and had ushered him into the living room where he'd wrapped him in the fluffiest, thickest blanket they had. While Talia had made hot drinks for them, Derek had remained next to him, using his body heat to get Stiles unfrozen again. Well, he hadn't been literally frozen of course, but still, he'd been too cold for his liking.

"In a sense," Deaton said, mysterious as always. Before Stiles could get worked up again, he continued, "The Nemeton is a sentient being and much like people, it has a need for interaction. Interaction for it comes in the form of the bond between it and the Elemental Creature it has chosen. In this case, it has bonded to you, an Elemental Fox. The Nemeton takes care of the place it resides in, but in order to do so, it needs regular interaction with you. I presume you haven't visited it in quite a while?"

"Almost a month maybe?" Stiles replied after a pause. He shook his head. "Not entirely sure, though. But yeah, it's been a while."

And why shouldn't it have been? He guessed he was grateful that the tree had somehow protected him from Theo, but why would he need to spend more time around it? It was clearly flourishing on its own, given that it had still looked massive when he'd stood in front of it just an hour ago.

Deaton nodded contemplatively. "At least in the beginning, the Nemeton needs your presence frequently around it to stabilise itself. It was bonded to your mother before, but that has already been several years and now it needs to adjust to your presence." He hummed. "Because you didn't go to the Nemeton, the Nemeton used dreams to draw you out. That doesn't happen often, but it's not unheard of either."

"I wouldn't call that nightmare a dream," Stiles muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Just how frequently does Stiles have to see that tree?" Dad asked wearily. "And for how long does he need to visit it regularly? He's following online classes now, but you can't expect him to give up his classes to visit that damn tree."

Deaton cocked his head to the left. "I would say at least the first four months? Each week at least a couple of hours. That should be enough time for the Nemeton to bond properly. After that every two to three weeks I'd say."

"What am I even supposed to do to _'bond'_ with it?" Stiles asked dubiously.

"You'll know when you're with the Nemeton," Deaton smiled enigmatically before nodding at them. "I wish you all a good night – or what rests of it still."

And with that he was gone, having been rather useless and mysterious as always. Why had he even come when he wouldn't give any clear answers? Sure, he'd explained why he'd had that nasty nightmare and why he'd woken up in front of the Nemeton, but that was literally all he'd done. How was he supposed to know how to bond with that damn tree when he hadn't even known bonding was necessary in the first place?!

"Are all druids that annoyingly cryptic or is Beacon Hills just that unlucky?" he questioned blankly. "Can't we trade him in for someone else? You know, someone who actually answers all our questions?"

Talia sighed and rubbed her temples. "No, we can't _'trade'_ him in for someone else." She sounded as if she'd answered that question multiple times before.

Stiles was of the opinion that if she got that question so often, she really should reconsider not getting a new druid.

"At least he explained why you sleepwalked," Dad muttered. "We'll figure out the rest later. Let's go home first so that we still can catch a bit of sleep."

"It's nearly morning," Stiles pointed out, but stood up nonetheless after quickly gulping down his chocolate milk. He placed the mug on the table and shrugged off the blanket, stretching his fingers and toes. At least he no longer felt like he was freezing.

"You go to the cruiser already. I still need to ask Talia something," Dad said, groaning when he stood up and stretched his back.

Normally Stiles would have insisted on waiting for him here, too curious about the question, but truth be told, he was exhausted and despite the fluffy, comfortable blanket, he just wanted to crawl back in his own bed and forget what had just happened for at least a couple of hours. So he just nodded and trudged out of the room, aware of Derek following him. He found the shoes dad had brought with him – as he'd been barefoot because of course his subconscious hadn't thought of grabbing shoes before going outside to sleepwalk – waiting for him at the front door and he stuffed his feet inside the battered trainers.

It was then that he realised he was still wearing Derek's old clothes because his own pyjamas had been soaked. "Oh, are my pyjamas dry yet?" he asked startled, plucking at the black shirt.

Considering how muscled Derek was, the shirt hung loosely around his frame; the sleeves drooping a bit over his hands. His sweatpants were the same; he'd had to tie the strings quite firmly in order to keep them on.

"Not yet, think they still need at least fifteen minutes," Derek replied after tilting his head to the left. "But don't worry about it; I'll bring them over in a few hours. You can keep these clothes for now."

"Thanks," Stiles sighed and together they walked outside. He wrapped his arms around himself when the chilly air enveloped him and shuddered when Derek wrapped an arm around him, pulling him against him to share his heat.

It was really unfair how Derek seemed to run hot, no matter the temperature outside, while Stiles felt like he would freeze any minute now again. Oh well, that just gave him an excuse to cuddle up to the Beta wolf, he supposed.

They halted right next to the cruiser. Stiles leant against the door and Derek's hands were warm on his sides.

"You're going to be okay?" Derek inquired; the corners of his mouth twisted with concern.

"Yeah," Stiles sighed and rolled his shoulders. "That tree got my attention, which is apparently what it wanted, so I'm going to guess I'm off the hook for now." He nibbled on his lip. "I think … it's best if I go back later today, see if I can figure out what this bonding bullshit is all about, seeing as our lovely druid has explained shit."

Derek smiled wryly.

"You got time to go with me?" Stiles asked, not really wanting to go alone to the Nemeton. Not that he thought the tree could possibly harm him – didn't seem to want to at least, even though it had given him that fucked up nightmare – but he would feel better if someone else was there with him.

"Of course. Just let me know when you want to go."

"Will do." Their mouths met in a soft kiss and Stiles slipped one hand around the back of Derek's head, treading the soft strands between his fingers. When he tightened them lightly, a grumble of contentment left the older man and the fox shifter grinned in their kiss.

They only broke apart when the front door opened and Derek squeezed his hips gently. "I'll see you soon. Try to catch some sleep."

"You too." They shared another quick kiss and then Derek trotted back to the house, nodding at dad when he passed him.

Dad raised an eyebrow at him when he reached the car, but when Stiles simply quirked an eyebrow, he shook his head and unlocked the cruiser. "Come on, let's go home. We've still got a few hours left before we officially have to be awake."

* * *

The Nemeton looked less ominous during the day, even with the sky overcast and threatening with another bout of rain. Some birds were arguing with each other, their voices shrill and loud, piercing the peaceful quiet.

"So …" Stiles planted his hands on his hips and looked up at the large tree, of which the branches shuddered in the wind. "I'm here. How the hell am I supposed to bond with you?"

Next to him Derek snorted. "I don't think it can actually answer you."

"It'd be a lot easier if it could," Stiles grumbled, scowling.

Seriously, what the hell was he supposed to do now? He was giving up his morning of studying in favour of coming to the tree after having helped Derek move into his new apartment, but now that he was here, he had no clue what to do. Unlike what Deaton thought, he wasn't hit with a sudden epiphany about how he should bond with the Nemeton. Did the druid even know how that bonding should be done or had he been talking out of his ass last night?

"Whatever," he huffed and promptly sat down on the ground, crossing his legs. "I'm just going to sit here for a while and I don't know, we can talk or so. Maybe that'll be enough to bond with it."

Derek looked sceptic, which Stiles couldn't really blame him for because he was sceptic as hell too, but sat down as well and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. Your work?" Stiles shrugged and laughed at the deadpan look he got in return. "What? You got anything better in mind? We're going to be here for a little while after all."

"Work's okay," Derek said after a short pause. "Got a new project yesterday actually."

"Oh, what's this one about?" Derek worked as a translator for both literary and technical works. The guy was ridiculously well versed in at least four languages, not including English, and the translation business allowed him to do most of the work at home, which was perfect for someone who didn't like being around other people for too long except for when they were pack.

"A technical manual for mixers. They've asked me to translate it from English to French," Derek replied and gave a small self-conscious smile. "Not as interesting as some of the other projects I've done in the past, but it pays well and the deadline is decent."

"That the only project you're working on?" Stiles asked curiously, supporting his chin with his fist. His butt was slowly growing numb from the cold underground, but he stayed stubbornly seated. He had no desire whatsoever to be subjected to another horrific realistic nightmare, so he was going to stay put here for a while.

Damn Nemeton. Damn Deaton for being such a cryptic asshole.

"Yeah, I finished the other projects on Monday, so for now that's the only one I'm working on," Derek answered. "How's your classes going?"

They sat talking there for a while, losing track of time. The Nemeton did nothing out of the ordinary, didn't try to seemingly hug him again like last night. For all intents and purposes it just looked like a giant tree.

When the sky became too dark, they left, not fancying being caught in the rain. Before they left the clearing behind, Stiles turned his head and stared at the Nemeton. The branches swung back and forth in the wind, which was picking up speed, and some of its leaves broke off and twirled gently down onto the ground.

He would know when he was in front of the Nemeton, huh? What a load of crap.

* * *

One week later had him visiting the Nemeton on Saturday on his own. Derek was busy with a new translation project, one which was a lot more work than the technical manual had been; dad was on a shift and Scott had a Skype date with Kira before he needed to go to his work.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, shivering when a gust of wind blew past him, he sighed and ran his tongue across the back of his teeth. Man, what was he doing here?

"So I've got no clue whatsoever what I'm supposed to do," he said aloud, wrinkling his nose. "Deaton says I would know when I stood in front of you, but well, that hasn't been the case so far. He says you need to bond with me, but how does that even work?"

Of course there wasn't any answer, save for some birds chattering agitatedly in the woods behind him and some squirrels dashing underneath the bushes, probably preparing their food stash for the winter.

He didn't let himself be deterred by the silence. "I mean, obviously something made you come back to life. My memory hasn't come back completely, but I remember falling down at your stump and the next moment you apparently started growing. So I guess I should say thank you for helping me?"

He clucked his tongue and huffed, rubbing his forehead. "Look at me, talking to a damn tree," he mumbled. "Jackson would have a field day with this shit." He threw his hands up in the air. "But that's all I can think of to do. Talking is one of the things I'm good at, so I guess you'll be graced by my marvellous voice until I figure out just what the hell I'm actually supposed to do in order to let you bond with me."

He stayed quiet for a while, staring unseeingly at the thick trunk. "I wonder if my mom knew what she was doing," he muttered and ducked underneath the low hanging branches.

He sat down in the hollow formed between two massive roots, his back resting against the rough bark of the tree. Sitting here, the branches seemed to create some kind of shield around him and the usual sounds of the forest life seemed a bit muted. He breathed out slowly and leant his head against the tree, closing his eyes. Pulling his legs up, he clasped his arms around his knees and just listened to small animals scurrying around and birds swooping low over the ground before taking off high in the sky. The leaves rustled and the branches creaked once in a while when a particular strong burst of wind rattled through them.

It was late October, but for once the cold air didn't bother him. Sitting here against the Nemeton made him recall the days he'd spent here with his mom, back when she'd still been able to move around freely. Before she became too sick. They'd often just sat here against the trunk, telling stories and sharing food mom had stored in a small picknick basket. Sometimes dad had joined them, humouring them, even though he'd never understood his wife's and son's fascination with the tree.

Stiles hadn't either. He'd liked the tree, had loved coming here, because he'd seen how this place made his mom happy. This was the place where they had played and run around on so many days, where she'd taken him to celebrate his good marks and to comfort him whenever his day at school hadn't gone that well. This clearing had been their home away from home, even during autumn and winter. It had been their special place. It had been so special mom had stubbornly insisted on coming here until she could no longer physically do it. She'd fought until the end to be here, but eventually her stubbornness had been defeated by her sick body.

Sometimes Stiles thought that not being able to be here had made her illness progress faster than it should have done.

" _Why do you like it here so much, mommy?"_ he remembered asking her once on a rainy September day. He'd been six years old at the time.

She'd laughed and stroked his hair back. _"Because it's nice here, sweetheart. This tree takes care of us."_

" _How can it take care of us?"_ he'd demanded, throwing a suspicious look at the tree. _"Does that mean we have to take care of it too?"_

" _Sure, that's the only right thing to do, don't you think so?"_ At the time he hadn't noticed how she'd avoided the first question.

" _How do we take care of it then? Does it need candy or food or something else?"_

" _It's really simply, honey. If we're happy, the tree is happy,"_ she'd smiled.

" _That's all we have to do?"_ Even then he'd been sceptical.

" _Yep, that's all we have to do. As long as we're happy, the tree is happy. It's that simple,"_ she'd confirmed and had kissed his forehead before challenging him to catch her and shifting into her fox form.

He opened his eyes and gazed at a bug slowly crawling over his right knee before he flicked it away.

"As long as I'm happy, hm?" he mused.

Another gust of wind made the branches shudder and creak.

* * *

"So how many people are going to be there tomorrow?" Stiles questioned, plopping down on the couch and dropping his feet on Derek's lap. He grinned when Derek stared pointedly at his feet and in response he wiggled his toes.

Derek rolled his eyes but instead of shoving his feet off of him, he simply gripped his ankles gently and started massaging there. "My parents and my sisters obviously. Uncle Peter too unless he decides not to. Erica, Boyd and Isaac said they would be there as well. Maybe some of my other family members, but that's still undecided. What about your dad?

"Normally he will be there, but whether he stays will depend on how many people are going to pull stunts tomorrow."

Halloween was one of those days where people seemed determined to outdo each other in pulling stupid or dangerous stunts and usually the deputies had their hands full with pulling drunk people off the streets and breaking up fights or collecting kids who took the _'trick'_ part a little bit too literal.

Admittedly Stiles had been one of those kids who tended to go a bit overboard with trick or treating, but at least this year he wouldn't be out there performing any shenanigans, because he'd been invited to spend the full moon with the Hales. That meant stuffing his face full with wonderful food prepared by Talia herself before shifting and chasing – or being chased – after the others. He hadn't run around during the full moon with others since his mother had passed away, so he was really looking forward to spending the full moon with the Hales. It'd be even better if his dad could join them, because he could use some unwinding of his own.

Speaking of unwinding …

"You want to watch a movie before we go to sleep?"

Derek's eyes flashed for a couple of seconds before he got himself back under control. "Sure – but your dad did agree to you staying the night here, right?"

"For the fourth time, yes, he did," Stiles groaned and thumped his head against the arm of the couch. "Do you think I would be here if he'd said no?"

The other man didn't say anything but just offered him a very pointed look, complete with both eyebrows raised, which okay yeah, that was fair, he guessed.

Ever the mature one, he stuck out his tongue. "Okay, yeah, I see why you're suspicious, but I swear he okayed this! You can call him if you want, but I didn't sit through a whole hour of awkward sex talk- for the second time I might add! - for you to remain suspicious!"

The corners of Derek's mouth twitched. "He gave you the sex talk?"

"In torturously full detail," Stiles said slowly, widening his eyes. "It wasn't pretty for either of us and I would very much appreciate it if you would stop make me remembering it, because I'm doing my hardest here to supress that horror."

"Poor you," Derek smirked; his smirk widening when Stiles kicked his leg.

"You better be damn appreciative for what I'm willing to do for you," the Omega grumbled, crossing his arms and scowling at him. "That's a full hour I'm never going to get back!"

"Oh, don't worry, I appreciate it," Derek murmured and swiftly bent forwards to kiss him.

Before Stiles could deepen the kiss, though, the older man pulled back and laughed at his pout. "Which movie do you want to watch?"

"Why not choose the appropriate theme for the time of the month and go for a horror movie. Like The Cabin in the Woods," Stiles replied with a grin, sitting up. "They're airing it tonight and it's been a while since I last watched it. Last time I watched it was with Scott and he got too creeped out by the ending."

"What doesn't creep him out?" Derek rolled his eyes, but leant forwards to snatch the remote from the table. "Is there any horror movie that doesn't freak him out?"

"Eh, probably not. He's a sensitive soul," Stiles said wisely and stood up. "Please tell me you've still got that huge bag of chips in the kitchen."

"Should have, unless Erica or Cora swiped it when they were here a few days ago," Derek replied absently, surfing through the channels to locate the right one.

"They'd better not," Stiles muttered and walked into the kitchen which was only separated from the living room by the kitchen table.

He let out a noise of triumph when he located the large bag in the back of the cupboard and dumped it into a huge bowl, snagging a bottle of Cola with him on his way back to the couch.

"All right, we've got snacks and drinks, so we're all set to go," he announced, sitting down next to Derek. He put the soda on his other side and the bowl on both their legs so they could share. Trying not to get too distracted by Derek's warmth and scent, he said, "Press play so we can get grossed out."

Derek snorted, but pressed play nonetheless, throwing one arm around Stiles' shoulders. Which Stiles was perfectly fine with, because one, it just pressed him closer against the wolf and two, _cuddling!_ Hell yeah, he was all for that!

He didn't care whether that sounded lame; cuddling was awesome, especially when it was with his boyfriend.

Snacks, a nice horror movie and cuddling with his boyfriend – ingredients for a great evening.

And maybe afterwards …

He grinned and pressed himself closer against Derek. He was really looking forward to his first night at Derek's place.

Staying the night at his boyfriend's apartment and attending the full moon party with his family tomorrow. It couldn't get better than that.

* * *

 **AN2: I know the chapter isn't that overly long, but I decided to end it at this nice note instead of leaving you all with another cliffhanger (am I not nice now? LOL)**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's note: Had a bit of trouble figuring out how exactly to write this chapter, but managed it eventually. Obviously *coughs***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: babyvfan; Digidestined10; yukino76; Myxes**

 **Warnings: Hm, some suspense, I guess?**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 22_

"You're sure you don't mind sharing the bed?"

Stiles could only stare at him incredulously. "Are you seriously asking me whether I mind sharing a bed with you?" he asked bewildered.

Derek blinked slowly. "Yes. I'm really asking that. I'm sorry for wanting to make sure you feel comfortable," he replied sarcastically.

"Of course I feel comfortable! What else would be the point of me staying the night here?" Stiles scoffed and finished wrestling his arms through the sleeves of his pyjama shirt.

"If you feel uncomfortable in any way," Derek started.

"I'll let you know immediately," Stiles reassured him, dropping down on the bed and wiggling underneath the blanket. It was not as thick as the one he had on his bed at home, but he was pretty sure he'd be comfortably warm in no time – as soon as Derek stopped lingering in the doorway and actually got into the bed.

"Are you getting into the bed now? Or are you going to keep standing there?" he asked lightly, sitting up and raising his legs slightly. "Because I could use a personal heater now; your bed's ice cold."

"I doubt it's ice cold," Derek snorted, but walked to him nonetheless. "And really, a 'personal heater'? That's all I am to you? How cold."

" _Oooh_ , are we going to use puns?" Stiles grinned, snickering when that gained him an unimpressed raised eyebrow. "If you get into the bed now, I'll upgrade you from personal heater to hot boyfriend, how does that sound?"

"Smooth," Derek smirked, but got into the bed without any fuss. "You want to sleep?"

"Depends on your definition of it," Stiles said lightly, sounding braver than he felt.

He definitely felt ready to do more, but couldn't help but feel a bit jittery at the prospect. So far they'd only cuddled and kissed, barely even touching underneath the clothes. Spending their first night together made him want to try out more at the same time it made him a bit nervous too. But that was normal, no?

Interest was definitely lurking in Derek's eyes, but he still sounded cautious when he asked, "And what's your definition of it?"

Ah, so Derek was going to let him take charge then. All right, he could do that. No need to be weird about it.

For once he had nothing to say and instead he braced himself against the bed and leant forwards. Derek met him halfway and a shiver ran down his spine when their mouths connected. The kiss was still soft, kept light on purpose, and while they had kissed several times before, something about this kiss felt different, more … intimate.

Maybe it was because they were now in a bed, he mused distracted, shuffling closer to Derek. A bed made everything automatically intimate, didn't it? Well, he at least thought it did.

The mattress creaked softly when they moved positions, Derek's hands warm on his sides. Not once breaking away from those tempting lips, Stiles somehow managed to climb into the older man's lap without accidentally headbutting or punching or kicking him, which he thought was a miracle he could be proud of, given how accident prone he was sometimes. A thrill went through him when their hips slotted together and he tightened his legs around firm, sweatpants clad thighs. He slipped one hand around Derek's neck, playing with his hair, while his other hand rucked up Derek's shirt, and he couldn't stop himself from rolling his hips when he encountered firm muscles, shamelessly groping Derek.

A low growl escaped Derek before he surged forwards and started kissing Stiles more firmly, a tongue sweeping over his lips before the Omega opened his mouth, granting entrance. A warm, broad hand slipped underneath his shirt and Stiles' stomach involuntarily clenched when Derek's hand touched it.

"You're okay?" Derek asked, nuzzling a spot right underneath Stiles' left ear.

"Yeah, yeah, keep going," Stiles ordered, his fingers tightening around silky soft strands. Man, he needed to ask Derek what kind of shampoo he used, because his hair felt so damn soft it was unbelievable.

Derek didn't need to be told that twice. When his mouth found Stiles' next, the kiss was a lot fiercer from the start, no longer a hint of uncertainty in it. Strong arms wrapped around Stiles' waist and he gasped surprised when he was suddenly pushed back, Derek on top of him. _Oh, he was definitely down for something like this._

But when Derek started mouthing at his neck and a hand slipped underneath his shirt again, his stomach suddenly twisted into knots and a sick feeling took a hold of him.

 _Darkness. Moon nearly at its peak, streaming silver all over the forest._

 _It should be peaceful, but it wasn't. Something was there, something which came nearer and nearer._

 _ **Someone uninvited.**_

"Stiles? Stiles, what's wrong?"

Derek's alarmed voice jarred him straight out whatever the fuck that had been and Stiles lurched forwards, his heart beating madly, painfully in his chest. He gasped for air, his hand scrabbling at his chest, and he looked wildly around, panic quickly rising.

 _There was someone coming for them._

"Stiles?" Derek was sitting on his knees now, no longer touching the younger man, though his hand was stretched out, hovering between them. His eyes were large with worry. "Stiles, what's happening? Did I go too far?"

"Someone's coming," Stiles muttered, scrambling backwards. He nearly toppled off the bed but straightened himself just in time. Filled with an inexplicable restless energy, he jumped off the bed and started pacing back and forth, wrapping his arms around himself. He felt cold, so cold, as if he'd been dumped abruptly in a bath with ice water.

What the hell was happening to him?

"Who's coming, Stiles?" Derek asked, getting off the bed too, though he didn't approach the fox shifter.

"I don't know!" Stiles snapped frustrated, rubbing his hands briskly over his face. With each second that passed, the sensation of dread only grew, ice replacing the warm blood in his veins. He felt like he was being hunted down, the feeling not unlike the one he'd experienced when he'd been trying to escape from Theo, and that was ridiculous, wasn't it, when he was at Derek's apartment and there was literally nobody else here but them!

Yet it felt like someone was coming straight at him and he hurried to the window, peeking through the blinds.

There was nobody on the street, no suspicious car parked across from the building. For all intents and purposes, everything seemed peaceful. He, however, couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being hunted down like prey and his stomach did several nasty flips.

"Why do you think someone's coming?" Derek questioned.

Irrationally Stiles was relieved that the other man didn't sound like he thought he was an absolute nutjob for feeling like this. Not that he would have really blamed him if he thought that – he was sure he must look and sound insane now, muttering about someone coming for him when it was clear nobody was even nearby. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him?

"I – I just have this feeling that someone is coming closer, like they're hunting me down and," he swallowed, rubbing a fist over his chest, "I – I thought I saw something just now."

"Outside?" Derek asked sharply and was instantly in front of the window, looking through the blinds to spot the threat.

"No, not outside, or yeah, actually it is outside," Stiles corrected himself, shaking his head. "But, but not here. Not – around this building."

"Stiles, tell me: what did you see exactly?" Derek inquired tersely, closing the blinds completely. The lamp on his nightstand cast his face in the shadows, but his eyes glowed golden and he was tense, ready to tackle any threat.

"I – don't know what it was exactly," Stiles said slowly, forcing himself to stand still. That was difficult, though; his body still thrumming with too much energy, so much he felt like he was going to explode any second now. "It was … like I was dreaming, but a very short one and … I don't know. It was weird as hell. I – it looked like I was somewhere else and I felt, no, I'm sure that someone's coming closer. Someone – someone who's not welcome here."

"Did you recognise the place you were in?"

Stiles stared at him, the dread in him only growing stronger when he answered, "Yes, the Preserve. It's coming for the Nemeton."

* * *

He didn't know how he knew it. Didn't understand why he'd got that weird vision – if that was what it had been – and understood even less why Derek took him serious enough to call his mother and the Sheriff.

Derek drove them to the Preserve and Stiles felt like an idiot. What if they arrived at the Nemeton and nothing was wrong? What if his supposed vision was just some weird result of him not having had enough sleep this past week? That could happen, no, hallucinating from a lack of sleep? Maybe that was what his weird vision type thing had been: just a short hallucination, his mind getting back at him for staying up too late and not getting enough sleep.

"Then we'll find out when we get there," Derek said calmly when Stiles voiced his worries.

Stiles' chuckle was shrill and he bit down on his index finger, mumbling around it, "Yeah, and then I'll have wasted your family's and my dad's time and then everyone will think I'm a lunatic or an idiot. I don't know which one's worse."

"Nobody will think you're a lunatic or an idiot," Derek sighed, speeding up once they hit the main road leading to the Preserve. This late at night there was nobody else around and the headlights of the Camaro was the only light source cutting a path through the darkness. "From what you've told me, it doesn't sound like you were just hallucinating."

"So what? Now I'm suddenly getting visions?" Stiles scoffed and his stomach churned. God, no, it was already bad enough he found himself bonded to a magical tree – he couldn't deal with getting random visions on top of that!

"I don't know," Derek admitted and frowned; his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. "We can ask my mom about it; maybe she'll know more."

"Maybe," Stiles agreed reluctantly. He didn't really believe it, however. Sure, Talia was the mayor of the town and she seemed to know a fair bit about Elemental Beings in general, but he thought an Elemental Fox somehow getting visions about intruders was a bit too much even for her.

Would Deaton know more about it? Theoretically, he should, right? He was a druid and he knew about Elemental Foxes and about the Nemeton. Did he know about these visions? Had Stiles' mom got them too in the past?

Once again he wished she was still here, if only because she would be able to answer all his questions and not be a mysterious dick about it.

And because at least then he was sure he wasn't going crazy.

* * *

When they trudged into the clearing finally, dad was already there, together with Talia, Deaton – because of course he was here, Stiles wasn't even surprised about that anymore – and to his great surprise, Peter too.

"What is he doing here?" he asked blankly, pointing at the smirking older man.

"When our dear fox gets a vision that an intruder is about to mess with the Nemeton, why wouldn't I be here?" Peter replied cheerfully and that answered exactly nothing, like usual with the guy.

Stiles really wondered at times how the rest of the Hales put up with such a weirdo.

Deaton took a step forwards, his right hand clasping some sort of amulet which hung around his neck. "Can you tell me what exactly you saw in your vision, Stiles?" he inquired calmly.

Behind them the Nemeton shook its leaves; the cold wind whistling through them.

Derek placed a hand on his lower back and Stiles took a deep breath, letting that warm touch steady him. "Nothing much," he started haltingly. "Just that it was dark like now with the moon shining. And then it felt like someone was coming closer, aiming straight for me – or for the Nemeton, I'm not sure – like it was, I don't know, hunting me down?" He shrugged uncomfortably, avoiding his dad's heavy gaze.

Deaton nodded contemplatively. "And did you get a look at whoever is coming closer?"

"No, I didn't see anything," Stiles sighed and rubbed over his arms when the wind picked up strength for a moment. Derek pulled him close against his side and he gave him a faint, grateful smile, before turning back to Deaton and continuing, "I just got the feeling that someone was coming closer. Someone who's not … invited in." He grimaced, hearing himself just how inane that sounded.

Not invited in – what the hell did that even mean?

It wasn't like Beacon Hills was a fortress where you had to get permission at the gates before you could enter. It just drove home the fact even further that whatever he'd seen didn't make any sense whatsoever.

"Well then, let's wait here so we can greet our uninvited guest," Deaton smiled thinly, releasing the amulet. It was some sort of wooden circle with odd signs etched into it. It probably meant something to the druid, but Stiles had no clue what.

"Wait, we're actually going to wait here?" Stiles asked incredulously. "I don't even know what I saw; maybe I was just hallucinating or so."

"What a coincidence then, that your hallucination had to include the Nemeton of all places," Peter remarked silkily, his hands behind his back.

"Uncle Peter," Derek growled warningly and the older man just smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Just reassuring your mate he's not going insane," he said lightly; his eyes dancing with amusement.

Stiles' cheeks reddened with embarrassment at being referred to as Derek's mate so casually, and said, "I never said I thought I was going insane."

"But you thought you were," Peter commented and it was so creepy how he had managed to spot that.

Could he read minds? It honestly wouldn't surprise Stiles at this point. Peter was suddenly creepy and mysterious enough to be able to do that.

"My son's not insane," Dad said sharply, his hand resting on his gun. "That said, how do we know for sure this person still needs to arrive and isn't already here? I should radio in for backup, let my men search the Preserve."

"No need for backup, Sheriff," Deaton replied serenely. "This person will soon be here, of that I'm sure. However, there's no need to employ your people here. We will be enough to detain this person."

"You're sure of that?" Talia asked warily; her eyes gliding from one tree to the next. She was dressed in a simple black sweater and a pair of faded dark blue jeans with an open coat thrown over it, but she looked ready to strike at any moment.

"Yes, I am," the druid said calmly. "The Nemeton gives out these warnings plenty of time beforehand."

"Wait, so the Nemeton was showing me whatever that was?" Stiles asked in disbelief, but froze when soft footsteps could be heard drawing nearer.

The others stilled as well, all heads turned into the direction of the sound. It was still quite faint, the person obviously not that close yet, but it was steadily approaching. Who could that be? Maybe it was just someone out for a walk? This late at night and in this part of the town, that seemed very unlikely, though.

If it was this supposedly uninvited person – who was it and what were they planning then? What about them made them so uninvited – bar the fact that they were clearly strange for coming here so late at night.

Could it be …

He almost didn't dare to think it, but a treacherous voice in the back of his mind hissed, _Maybe it's Theo._

His breathing hitched and he snatched Derek's hand, squeezing tightly in it, trying to ward off the growing panic. If it was Theo, then he didn't know what he would do. Logic stated they would definitely win if it boiled down to a fight considering it would be six against one – maybe seven if one counted the Nemeton – but Theo had proven before that he could win even against all the odds. He'd managed to escape both the Hales and the Nemeton after all that day when he'd been chasing after Stiles. Clearly he wasn't stupid.

And what if he wasn't alone? The footsteps indicated it was only one person coming towards them, but what if the other one had shifted? There were so many animals scurrying and sneaking around in the forest tonight – a shifter would be able to blend in with no problem at all unless his form was really big or aquatic.

Theo hadn't been alone, Stiles remembered with a sickly feeling. He had had at least one other person helping him behind the scenes, the person who'd picked him up after he'd fled from the forest and who was most likely also the one who'd crashed their car into that of the Sheriff's. They had no clue how big Theo's network actually was. What if he had multiple people helping him? What if they were accompanying him in their shifted form right now? If he had enough people with him, the six of them probably wouldn't stand a chance.

Something crunched nearby.

From the corner of his eye, he saw dad slowly pulling his gun out of the holster, his face grim. Deaton was brushing his thumb across the amulet, standing as still as a statue, and a quick glance down showed Talia had her claws out. Derek too, Stiles realised with a start, although he only had claws on his free hand; the hand around Stiles' was claw free, but gripping him firmly.

Peter …

Peter was gone.

Stiles opened his mouth to demand where he was – had the bastard just left them to fend for themselves? – but then a high pitched shriek tore through the air and he jumped startled. Before he could question what the fuck that had been, Peter appeared on his right, dragging something – or _someone_ actually – out of the bushes roughly.

Carelessly he threw the person in front of him on the ground, but held one of their arms tightly; his claws flashing in the moonlight. "I found our uninvited guest," he drawled bored, but when the person made a move as if to twist around, he kicked them in the back at the same time he pulled their arm backwards and they shrieked again, writhing in pain.

"Brother, let us remain civil for now," Talia spoke, quirking an eyebrow.

Peter just smiled, not making any attempt whatsoever to either remove his foot or stop pulling the arm back.

"I suggest you tell us who you are and what you're doing here at this hour before you tire out Peter's patience," Dad said calmly, still keeping his gun out, but aimed at the ground for now. "And let me tell you: Peter is not known for his patience."

"You make me sound like such a brute, Sheriff," Peter said amused.

"I'm – I'm Samantha Pune and – and I – I just wanted to see the Nemeton with my own eyes!" the woman hastily replied, whimpering when Peter pulled at her arm again. "That's all, I swear!"

Stiles frowned, trying to get a good look at her face. She'd been wearing a hood but her struggle just now had made it fall back, revealing dark brown curly hair and flashes of milky white skin. Her hair covered most of her face and she kept her head bowed, but even with the little he could see of her, he didn't think he recognised her from anywhere in the town. Sure, he was not going to pretend he knew everyone in Beacon Hills, but he was pretty sure he'd never seen her before.

If she didn't live here, what was she doing here then? And why did she want to see the Nemeton? How did she even know about it?

Deaton strode towards her and sat down on his haunches in front of her. "The wards indicated you're uninvited," he said calmly. "What was your real intention?"

She remained quiet, turning her head away.

"Should I break her arm?" Peter suggested lightly and Stiles couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.

"Deaton," Dad said, cocking his head to the right.

The druid stared at the woman for a couple of seconds longer before he nodded and rose up. "Bringing her to the precinct would be a good idea, I think. If I may, I would like to ask some questions of my own after you're finished with her."

Dad studied him intently. "She's not just someone from another town, is she?"

Deaton smiled. "No, she's not. Which makes it all the more interesting that she's here, don't you think so?"

"So what are we going to do now?" Stiles asked confused, his eyes switching between the woman on the ground and the others.

Talia had her arms crossed and her lips pursed, but she gave no indication she would answer.

"You two," Dad gave him and Derek a pointed look, "are going back home and sleep. We'll handle the rest here."

"Hey, shouldn't I hear what she has to say?" Stiles protested, waving his free arm around. "It's thanks to me that you've got her now! And will someone please tell me why I even knew she was coming?!"

"We'll talk about it in the morning," Talia said and her tone was decisive, brooking no argument. Her eyes glowed red when they landed on the woman and Pune flinched. "We still need to get some answers of our own first."

Stiles opened his mouth to protest again, but she went on, "Derek, you and Stiles go back. I'll expect you both in the morning at our house."

"All right, mom, see you in the morning," Derek said and started pulling Stiles away with him, leaving the others behind at the Nemeton.

"How is this even fair!" Stiles hissed outraged, nearly tripping over a raised root of an old tree. "I'm the one who got that weird vision, so why do I have to go home?!"

Derek stopped and looked at him. "I know, but let them handle it for now. You look like you're going to collapse any second now."

"I'm not!" Stiles denied instantly, but his legs were shaking and his hands felt both clammy and cold. He didn't know why. Whoever this woman was, she'd been alone and the others were clearly capable of dealing with her. There was no need for him to feel this off, like he was balancing on the edge of a cliff.

"You thought it was Raeken, right?" Derek guessed correctly.

Stiles swallowed and looked away, unwilling to answer that.

They stood there in silence for a little while before Derek nodded slowly and wrapped his arm around Stiles' shoulders, coaxing him along. "Let's go home and catch some sleep. Mom will be expecting us early in the morning, I'm sure."

Stiles nodded and followed; a part of him glad to leave all this weirdness behind for now.

A much larger part was wondering just how much stranger everything would become.

* * *

 **AN2: Weird shit going down, what else is new?**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's note: This chapter took an interesting turn towards the end, but well, that's not a surprise anymore in my stories *shrugs***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; babyvfan; Monmouse; PleiadesWolfe; Myxes**

 **Warnings: Small time skip; implied mature content; think that's it for this chapter**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 23_

The right mood couldn't be recaptured anymore when they climbed back into Derek's bed. Stiles tried to find at least a spark of excitement, but the events of the night and the odd vision left him feeling drained, off kilter, and definitely not in the mood to do anything but sleep.

Not exactly how he had expected their first night together to go.

"You okay?" Derek asked, drawing him into his arms.

Stiles breathed out slowly, staring up at the ceiling. "Could be better," he admitted chagrined. "Not really how I had thought our night together would go, to be honest."

"Yeah, me neither," Derek murmured and nosed his cheek. "At least we were there in time."

"Except we still don't have any answers," Stiles muttered frustrated, scowling. Was it that hard to just fucking explain things for once?

Could he expect more of these fucked up visions and if so, why? Was it because he was an Elemental Fox? Deaton had said the Nemeton had given him the warning – was this part of whatever bond there was supposed to be between the two of them? If so, he wasn't certain whether he wanted to bond further with the tree. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life getting one vision after the next, constantly feeling on edge.

Although, he supposed humourlessly, that wouldn't be much of a change with how he was living his life currently, on guard the entire time he was outside because Theo still hadn't been found.

"We'll get them in the morning," Derek said and twisted around to turn off the lamp. "Think you can sleep?"

"I feel tired enough," Stiles mumbled, turning onto his side.

He ended up with his nose pressed into the wolf's shoulder and with his next intake of breath, his senses were assaulted by Derek's pure scent and unconsciously he relaxed a bit, inhaling deeply. He threw one leg across Derek's thighs and felt a warm hand palming his hip, holding him close against the older man.

"Try to get some sleep," Derek whispered, kissing his temple.

"Yeah, making no promises," he sighed, rubbing his face back and forth against a firm shoulder.

Despite his comment, though, it didn't take him that long to fall asleep, wrapped up in a protective, warm embrace.

* * *

He was still bleary-eyed by the time they arrived at the Hale house; the cup of coffee he'd had at Derek's apartment not having kicked in yet. Dad's cruiser was present in front of the house, together with a black Honda Stiles hadn't seen before.

"Family member of yours?" He nodded at the car when they walked to the front door.

Derek threw a quick look at it and shook his head. "No, I believe that's the car Deaton drives."

Huh. Stiles blinked. He hadn't exactly pegged Deaton for a Honda type of guy, but then again what did he know? It wasn't like he was that close to the druid, not like Scott was.

This time it was Derek's dad, Alexander, who opened the door before they could ring the doorbell and he smiled at them, waving them inside.

"Talia's in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Your dad and Deaton are with her," he added, closing the door. "You managed to sleep well after last night?"

Stiles uttered a non-committal sound and trudged to the kitchen, lured in by the enticing scent of brewing coffee and sizzling bacon. His mind instantly sharpened when he spotted his dad at the kitchen table, his gaze focused on the pan with bacon.

"You can only have two strips of bacon and that's all, dad," he piped up and grinned when dad scowled at him.

"I spent the entire night at the precinct and I can't even have as much bacon as I want? Talk about being ungrateful," he muttered, leaning back in his chair.

"You could have had more if that was turkey bacon, but it isn't," Stiles said and shuffled to the counter where Talia was cracking eggs in a bowl. "You need any help?"

"No, Stiles, it's fine," she smiled and waved at the table behind her. "Go sit down, so we can discuss what happened last night."

At once his mood soured a bit and dad offered him a sympathetic look when he sat down next to him. Alexander entered the kitchen and started pulling plates out of one of the cupboards, dividing them on the table before grabbing cutlery. As soon as Derek sat down on Stiles' other side, Deaton walked into the kitchen as well and Stiles noticed he wasn't wearing the odd amulet anymore.

That only strengthened his suspicion that the amulet had been worn for a specific reason.

"So, are you going to tell me what last night was all about?" Stiles asked, resting his hands on the table. "Who was that woman and why did she come here in the middle of the night? Why did I get that vision? Am I going to get visions all the time now? How can a tree be capable of giving visions and how did it know someone was coming? Where's the woman now? Did you - "

"Stiles," Dad interrupted him, raising an eyebrow.

The Omega shut his mouth with a click and flushed with embarrassment. He hadn't meant to just word vomit all those questions, but he was getting frustrated with being kept in the dark. He just wanted some clear answers finally.

"Your questions will be answered, do not worry," Deaton said calmly and took one of the last remaining chairs. Folding his hands on his lap, he went on, "I will first explain who that woman was you saw last night."

Stiles actually wanted to know why he'd got that vision in the first place more than the full identity of the mysterious woman, but he kept quiet, figuring – hoping – all his questions would be answered eventually.

If not, he would just keep pestering them until they gave in and told him. Whatever it took to finally get some damn answers.

"Samantha Pune is a druid like I am, albeit one without any close ties to a town. She had heard rumours of the Nemeton awakening from its slumber and had decided to check whether those rumours had any merit to them," Deaton said, thanking Talia when she put a cup of tea in front of him.

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "So what, she just wanted to see the Nemeton? Why did she wait until the middle of the night to do that? And why would the Nemeton send me a vision then? It felt like I was being hunted down." He shivered, rubbing absently over his arms. He didn't think he would shake off that nasty sensation soon.

A hand landed on his knee and he quirked a quick smile at Derek, who smiled faintly back. The warm touch helped him calm down a bit and he took a deep breath.

"It is not strange for druids to be interested in the Nemeton, especially when it was in slumber for so many years," Deaton allowed and a wry note entered his voice when he continued, "However, a druid normally knows better than to enter a town uninvited when that town is in possession of such an artefact."

"Does that mean she didn't come with good intentions?" Derek raised an eyebrow.

"No, she had plans of taking a part of the Nemeton with her, possibly to gain control over it," Deaton replied and sighed softly. "She had hoped to use the cover of the night to get away with it."

"What is it with people trying to gain control over the Nemeton?" Stiles frowned, his mind flashing back to Theo who'd committed all those murders in an attempt to gain control over the Nemeton.

Why was everyone so obsessed with it? It was a natural source of power, so what? Couldn't they bother someone else with their obsession for power? Someone else who preferably lived very far away, like on the other side of the country.

"You gain control over the Nemeton and you receive access to a large reservoir of natural power," Deaton answered soberly. "Anyone with bad intentions and a hunger for power would be attracted to something like the Nemeton."

"And that's where my vision comes in, I suppose?" Stiles asked sourly. "What the hell was that all about? Will I get a vision every time some idiot attempts to control the Nemeton?"

"It's part of the deal the Nemeton makes with an Elemental Creature."

Stiles jumped when Peter slipped into the kitchen soundlessly, a smirk gracing his features. Fuck, he hadn't heard him approaching at all; hadn't even known he was inside the house. Why did Derek have to have such a creepy uncle?

"Deal? What deal?" Dad asked sharply. "And how do you know about this stuff? I thought Deaton was the only one with knowledge about the Nemeton."

"I read," Peter smirked and leant against the kitchen counter, pouring a mug full with coffee. "In return for guarding the town, the Nemeton requires some protection of its own. If it feels threatened – or believes a threat in general is approaching the town – it will send a vision to the person it's bonded to, which in this case is you, Stiles. So no, you won't have visions all the time, only when there's a threat."

"How many threats did my mom have to deal with?" Stiles asked warily; his hand squeezing around Derek's absentmindedly.

Peter's smirk deepened. "Some months more than others."

"Great, that's just great," Stiles muttered and rubbed his free hand over his face, frustration bubbling up.

Receiving visions every month if people decided to be giant assholes? God, he was already dreading that prospect. Wasn't there a way to make sure the possibility of a threat would be lessened? There had to be, right, because he couldn't remember his mother leaving often in the night or even during the day. Granted, he'd been a child back then, but some sort of instinct had always woken him up every time one of his parents had got up during the night. If mom had had to deal with possible threats multiple times a month, he would have noticed her absence.

"Isn't there a way to, you know, keep the chance of a threat relatively low? Because I still have my studies and I can't just drop them every time some dickhead decides they're in need of some power," he said, shifting on his chair. That probably sounded selfish of him, but whatever. He couldn't particularly care at the moment. He already had had to make changes in his life to accommodate that son of a bitch still roaming around, on top of the Nemeton wanting to bond with him every week, and if he had to deal with regular visions on top of that …

That would drive him crazy for sure. He wanted some resemblance of a normal life still and visions about power hungry bastards weren't a part of that.

"There is a way," Talia said slowly, exchanging a look with Deaton.

Stiles perked up. "Yeah? Great! What kind of way then?" he inquired hopefully.

"You learn to set up new wards with Deaton and Peter."

What.

* * *

"I just don't get why Peter has to be there with me too when I'll finally put those wards around the town," Stiles grumbled, plastering on a smile when he passed some of the Hales. An aunt and uncle who lived in San Diego if he wasn't mistaken.

The Full Moon party was in full swing; people were laughing and talking, devouring the food Alexander and some of the other Hales had spent the entire day preparing. The moon itself was slowly but steadily climbing up in the sky and soon they would gather to run together.

Stiles had been looking forward to this party, to the opportunity of running with a group again, with _Derek_ , but the conversation this morning was still bothering him, preventing him from fully enjoying the party.

"Deaton, I would understand, but Peter? That doesn't make any sense!" he insisted and nearly smacked a glass of the table when he waved his hand around.

"Mom said it's because the Hales have been living on this land for so long, we've turned into de facto protectors of the Nemeton as well and one of us has to know where the new wards are," Derek murmured, swiftly stepping out of the way of Cora who was yelling something about taking revenge on Laura for fucking up her shoes and rushing after her cackling sister.

"I know that, Derek, but why does it have to be Peter of all people?" Stiles retorted irritated. "Why not your mom, or Laura, or you? Literally everyone would be better than creepy Uncle Peter!"

"They probably have their reasons," Derek said and sighed when Stiles opened his mouth to protest again. "Look, I know you don't like it, okay? And I get why. But he's supposed to stay out of your way when you put the new wards down, so ignoring him will probably work out the best."

"There's no ignoring that guy," the younger man muttered darkly, narrowing his eyes at the creep in question, who was standing on the other side of the bonfire, entertaining some younger Hale cousins with stories of his travels.

Briefly Peter looked up and their eyes met, a smirk splitting his face in two and Stiles pulled a face, looking away. Eugh.

"I know, but can you try? For me at least?" Derek asked, sliding his arms around Stiles' waist and rubbing his nose in the Omega's neck, scenting him.

"You don't play fair," Stiles groaned, shivering when Derek's beard brushed against his skin.

"Never claimed I would," Derek smirked, but before their lips could meet for a kiss, Erica popped up next to them with a giant shit eating grin on her face.

"How are the two lovebirds doing?" she cooed, slinging an arm around Stiles' neck and pinching Derek's cheek quickly before he growled and snapped his teeth at her. That only made her snicker and tighten her grip on Stiles.

"Better when you weren't interrupting us," Derek answered, narrowing his eyes.

"Now that's not nice, Derek," she chided him; her bright red lipstick standing out starkly against her pearly white teeth. "We're one big family here and - "

The rest of her response was cut off by a squeal when Boyd swooped her off her feet and threw her over his shoulder like a potato sack.

"Don't mind her; the moon is getting to her head," he said calmly, serenely ignoring how she smacked his back with her fists.

"It is not!" she protested, kicking with her feet too, making Stiles duck before he got hit in the face by one of them. "I was just going to tell them that if they wanted to sneak away and have their own private moon party, I wouldn't - "

She squealed again when he smacked her ass and then he walked away, carrying her off amidst her laughing protest.

Isaac showed up next to them at the table and grabbed a glass of soda, staring impassively at the retreating backs of Boyd and Erica. He lifted his glass in the air and wrinkled his nose.

"Just a head's up, but if you do sneak off, don't go to that clearing with all those fallen tree trunks. That's Erica's favourite spot."

With that, he wandered off, letting himself be accosted by Laura, who insisting on showing him something.

"Your friends are weird," Stiles commented offhandedly, trying not to think about what exactly _'Erica's favourite spot'_ meant.

"Our friends," Derek corrected him and damn it, that shouldn't have made something in his chest flutter so much. The Beta pulled him closer against him and murmured in his ear, "I know you're not happy about the whole deal with Uncle Peter following you during the wards placement, but Pune has been sent away and your training with Deaton doesn't start until Wednesday. Let's enjoy the full moon tonight, okay? I've been looking forward to doing that with you."

"Yeah? For how long?"

"Months," Derek simply replied and for some reason Stiles felt his cheeks heat up.

"I hope you didn't hype up your expectations of this too much, you might get disappointed," he joked. His breath hitched when hazel eyes gazed at him intensely.

"You'd never disappoint me," Derek murmured and bent down to kiss him.

They only broke apart when Talia called out, "Everyone, gather around! It is time to start the run!"

Stiles shared a look with Derek and he grinned, a small smile unfolding on the older man's face, as they walked hand in hand to the bonfire where Talia doled out the only rules their run had.

 _Don't go out on the streets._

 _Don't stray too far out of the Preserve._

 _Don't hurt yourself or others._

 _But more importantly: have fun._

Barely had the last 'rule' left her mouth or there was a whirlwind of clothes being pulled off and dumped on the floor as people shifted into their animal form; all of them eager to start running.

Talia as the host gave the start signal by shooting off like a spear into the woods, her large, black wolf form easily swallowed up by the darkness of the trees. Alexander bounded after her swiftly and then everyone shot forwards: wolves, coyotes, even a couple of hyenas.

And one sleek fox, constantly darting in front of a large form, teasing him by smacking his tail against his snout, before bursting out in another fast run to stay out of the wolf's reach.

Never too far away, though. He didn't want that.

As Stiles ran there, surrounded by his dad, his boyfriend, his friends, _his pack_ , the urge to howl joyfully rose and so he did, howling at the great, large, silver moon, joined by a chorus of other howls.

Whatever shit was happening in their lives, this night was theirs. Their night to run freely, to enjoy themselves, to be happy, to spend time with pack.

For just this night, Stiles was _completely free._

* * *

Training with Deaton was nothing at all what Stiles had expected it to be. He had thought he would just get some instructions on how to place the wards and that would be it.

Of course it couldn't be that easy.

He would need a special kind of strain of Wolfsbane to form the wards with – "No, this won't harm you. It's a type specifically cultivated for this type of situations," – but before he could use that, he would first need to visualise the wards and strengthen them mentally. How could he strengthen them mentally?

By meditating.

He'd always had trouble sitting still for as long as he could remember and now he was forced to meditate for at least two hours five times a week, trying to visualise the wards he would use in order to strengthen them mentally. He'd asked why he couldn't just imagine like some sort of glass bowl descending over the town like in that one show, but Deaton had only given him a deadpan look and told him it didn't work like that.

Of course it didn't. Because that would have been way too easy and they couldn't have that!

The shape of the wards would come to him eventually, Deaton reassured him, as long as he concentrated and settled his mind. Once he was ready – again, he would know when that was, just like he'd known how to bond with the Nemeton (which no, he hadn't, he'd been working blind the whole time!) – then he could place the wards around the town.

He also had to familiarise himself with the Wolfsbane ash, get to know the texture of it so he could manipulate it better once he formed the wards. He'd been wary of it first, expecting it to burn his skin, but it felt like regular earth to him, just finer and blacker than the night.

All of that he had to do on top of his regular studying and visiting the Nemeton, which led to him basically spending very little time with Derek. His studying had already limited their time together – not to mention Derek's own work – but now they barely saw each other. There was a stolen hour here and there when Derek joined him at Deaton's or when Stiles drove over to his apartment to share lunch or so, but actual real time together? That had become very sparse.

Dates were entirely out of the question now and even though it had only been a month – though it felt much longer than that – since he had started training with Deaton, his lack of time together with Derek was starting to irritate the hell out of him. During the whole bullshit with Theo, he had clung to the thought of being with Derek to get through those long months. Now that they were finally able to be together, they still couldn't spend much time together because of Stiles' studies and his extra task of creating wards.

It was beyond _frustrating_.

Already wound up for making no progress whatsoever with those damn wards, it would surprise exactly no one who knew him that when December rolled into the country, Stiles snapped.

The last time he and Derek had spent any decent time together had been during Halloween – and even then it hadn't exactly happened in the way Stiles would have liked. First he'd had that vision, then they had been waiting near the Nemeton and afterwards during the party, they had spent most of the night running around. Don't get him wrong, he'd loved spending time with the pack, but even during that night he hadn't had any real opportunity to spend decent alone time with Derek.

Which was why he was now driving straight to Derek's apartment, pent up beyond belief. He'd left a note for his dad so he wouldn't worry when he came home to find his son gone, had texted Scott that under no circumstances – except maybe possible death, but only if the possibility was real – he was to be disturbed tonight and had shut his books, leaving everything behind on his desk.

Fortunately he didn't have any meditating to do tonight, but even if he had, he would have refused to go. It had been a month and he really needed to spend time with Derek, before he would go crazy. Wasn't it normal to want to spend time with his boyfriend? Scott skyped with Kira every week, which was more than Stiles could say he did with Derek – and they lived in the same town! That was how pathetic his life had become: his best friend spent more time with his girlfriend through a freaking screen than Stiles did with his own boyfriend.

He was going to put a stop to that today, though. After all these weeks of nonstop studying and meditating without having a clue what the hell he was doing, he deserved a break! One way or the other he was going to spend time with Derek and finally do what he had wanted to do a month ago!

It started raining softly by the time he parked his jeep and he shivered when he stepped out, the cold wind smacking him right in the face. Pulling his hoodie closer around him – maybe he should have grabbed a jacket – he hurried into the entrance hall of the apartment and pressed on the button connecting to Derek's apartment.

"Stiles?" Derek sounded confused, which made sense, considering it was only three in the afternoon and the older man knew he studied at this hour normally.

Not today, though. Nope. "Yeah, can I come up?"

"Of course."

He took the stairs, too wired up to take the lift, and Derek opened the door of his apartment with a bemused smile. He drew the Omega in for a kiss before stepping aside to let him in.

"Hey, I thought you were studying?"

There were papers spread out across the table with a laptop next to it, Derek's mail open on the screen. Coffee gone cold stood a bit further away in a green mug.

"Took a break," Stiles answered brightly and kicked off his shoes, padding further into the apartment on his socks. "You got time or do you need to finish your project first?"

"I can make time." Derek shrugged, following him. He was dressed in a grey sweater and black sweatpants, which made executing Stiles' plan a whole lot easier – if the Beta agreed at least.

God, he really hoped so, because he really, really wanted to spend some actual quality time together. Quality time that would hopefully have them take another step in their relationship …

Derek dropped down on the couch and cocked his head to the right a tad. The sweater clung against his chest and when he lifted his arms and braced them on the couch, the grey cloth lifted up slightly, revealing a teasing hint of dark hair disappearing into the sweatpants. Stiles remembered being pressed up against that firm chest, strong thighs bracketing his body and his mouth dried up slightly.

"Stiles?" Hazel eyes flashed golden and Derek's nostrils flared a bit when he scented the air; his pupils dilating slightly.

After a month of just stealing short moments here and there, being surrounded by Derek's scent, having the realisation in the back of his mind that they would be spending at least a couple of hours uninterrupted, it felt like he was drowning, standing only a couple of feet away from Derek and his fingers started to itch with the desire to _touch_.

Before he could think twice, before his brain to mouth filter could kick in, he blurted out, "Can I suck you off?"

That – was not exactly how he had planned to ask it. Derek looked just as stunned as he felt and he felt his entire face heat up, embarrassment colouring his face red. Sure, he'd fantasised about it a couple of times, wondered just how exactly Derek would taste like, late at night when he was getting himself off, but he hadn't meant to just blurt out his proposition like that. Especially not when this was essentially the first time in a month that they would be spending some actual time together.

Oh god, what was wrong with him?

Burying his face in his hands, he groaned. "Just ignore me, obviously I have no filter. We can just cuddle, you know, or watch a movie, whatever."

"I'm not saying no."

Derek's voice was low and when Stiles peeked through his fingers, he had to lick his lips at the way golden eyes burned almost unholy. Derek held out his hand, beckoning him silently, and Stiles stumbled forwards like he was a puppet whose strings were controlled by the man in front of him. When he was close enough, Derek pulled him down on his lap, so he ended up straddling him.

"Do you want to do this?" he asked; his eyes intense when he wrapped his left hand around the younger man's neck. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Trust me, I want to," Stiles immediately replied, resting his hands on strong shoulders. He couldn't help but lick his lips again and a thrill went through him when the wolf's eyes flicked to his mouth, flashing with interest. "Do you want me to?"

Derek shifted and Stiles bit down on his lip when he felt the Beta's obvious interest digging into the crease between his thigh and his crotch. "Yes," he growled before catching Stiles' mouth in a fierce kiss; his other hand clamping down on Stiles' left thigh.

 _Hell yes_. Sometimes his lack of filter did turn out to be a good thing.

* * *

A small part of him had been worried that maybe he was going too fast too quickly. They had been dating for less than three months now – was that considered too fast to be doing this kind of stuff?

Some people might say yes. Yes, they were going too fast; yes, they should slow down, keep it to kissing and cuddling only.

He'd never been one to listen to what other people said, though. Maybe this was fast, too fast; maybe this was out of the blue, but he wanted to do this, Derek wanted this, and that was all that mattered, no? If they both wanted this, did it matter how slow or how fast they were going?

He hadn't realised just how much he needed this until he was on his knees between Derek's legs, bare skin and firm muscles rippling underneath his hands, listening to the soft whimpers and muffled moans leaving Derek's mouth as fingers tightened and relaxed in an uneven rhythm around the strands of his hair. Hadn't known just how much he would enjoy doing this until he had Derek in his mouth and was left figuring out just what kind of touches the wolf liked.

He didn't take him deep in his throat – not yet, but he would definitely work his way up to that, yes, sir – but took him as far as he dared to go without triggering his gag reflex, making up for the rest by using his hand. When he twisted his hand, he brought in his tongue at the same time and smirked when that got him a loud groan in response and the hint of nails against his scalp.

He was completely surrounded by Derek's scent, his essence heavy on his tongue, and he loved every second of it, even when his jaw started to ache and his mouth felt too stretched, probably reddened as well. He looked up when he pulled back up and catching lust filled, half lidded eyes, he held them all the while he sank back down with his mouth and that earned him a hissed whisper of his name and Derek's right leg jerking against him.

When Derek's hand cradled his head and his hips started rolling upwards into Stiles' mouth, Derek finally having given up on his restraint, Stiles knew he was getting close and redoubled his efforts, bobbing his head up and down faster, curling his tongue around the tip whenever he brought his head up.

"I'm close," Derek warned through gritted teeth and he started gently pulling Stiles away, but he was having none of that.

He just hummed in confirmation and when he pulled up next, Derek came, and he hurried to catch everything in his mouth. Still a bit spilt down his chin and after swallowing – coughing a bit at the taste, not entirely bitter, but not sweet either – he pulled back and wiped the back of his hand over his chin, wiping it off.

He glanced up and grinned when multicoloured eyes darkened into golden. "You liked that?" he asked teasingly, his voice rough and his jaw aching like mad.

That was worth seeing Derek like this, though: cheeks flushed, chest heaving up and down, eyes wide and dark and golden, burning brightly. Then Derek smirked and sat up, drawing Stiles on the couch with him.

"Definitely, let me show you just how much I liked it," he breathed out and fuck, yeah, Stiles was all for that.

Forget studying for the evening, he had much more important things to do now!

Sometimes he really loved his lack of brain to mouth filter.

* * *

 **AN2: I don't know, guys, this is just what Stiles ended up doing *shrugs* One month without any decent Derek time is clearly too much. I originally had another cliffhanger in mind, but I figured I'd be nice for now and leave you with this kind of ending :P I do hope you appreciate my restraint LMAO**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter in which Stiles will receive somewhat disturbing news ...**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's note: I know it's not as long as the previous one, but I'm sweating out of my skin right now thanks to the heat wave currently going on and it's messing with my motivation to write. (I'm really, really not a summer person at all.) I still wanted to give you something, though, so I hope you won't mind too much that it's shorter than the previous one *winces***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Digidestined10; yukino76; babyvfan; ShadowXMoonlight; Almondweb**

 **Warnings: Hm, nothing in particular that I can think of. If I do have to add something, let me know!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 24_

He woke up in the middle of that night, staring up at the ceiling in the dark and listening to Derek breathe deeply next to him. He'd ended up spending the night after all, not really wanting to face his dad so soon after getting off for the first time with his boyfriend. Fortunately dad hadn't minded the impromptu sleepover when Stiles had texted him about it.

He could only hope the Sheriff hadn't taken advantage of a Stiles free house to eat fast food.

Sitting up slowly, he stared down at his fingers and carefully breathed out. Then he started to grin and clenched his hands into fists.

 _He finally had it._

After a month of meditating and wondering just what the hell he was doing, he had it: he knew how his wards would look like.

If he didn't have to be mindful of Derek beside him, he would be whooping in joy right now. Turned out he didn't need meditation to find out how the wards would look like: he just needed some sexy time with Derek, imagine that! Man, if he'd known that all he needed to do was get some good orgasms with Derek in order to get a visualisation of the wards, he'd have jumped the man weeks ago!

He almost vibrated with the need to do a celebratory dance, but he held himself in check, only allowing himself to carefully fist pump in the air a couple of times. All that was left to do now was contact Deaton in the morning and tell him the news. Well, that and actually placing the wards, but the druid had reassured him that part would be easy compared to finding out how the wards would look like in the first place.

For a moment he wondered just what kind of wards his mother had visualised, whether they had come close to his own version, and then he shook his head roughly, dispelling the thoughts. He didn't want to go down that path now; that would only lead to wondering just how much things would have changed if she'd still been alive and he didn't want to deal with that now.

Not when he was celebrating finally visualising those damn wards. This meant that he would no longer need to attend those meditation lessons with Deaton, meaning more time to spend with Derek and his friends. He would have some resemblance of a social life back after a month!

"Hm, how late is it?" Derek stirred, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes.

It really should be illegal for the man to look so adorable, whilst sleep rumpled and clearly not fully awake yet.

"Too early to get up yet," Stiles told him and when he received a deadpan stare in response, he rolled his eyes and craned his neck to check the small clock on the nightstand. "Sixteen past two."

"Why are you awake?" Derek grumbled, tugging at the Omega's arm to convince him to lie down again.

Stiles did so without any fussing. "I know how my wards will look like," he answered satisfied, snuggling into Derek's side.

Derek's arm curled around him; his fingers splayed across the younger man's back. "I'm proud of you," he mumbled, obviously half way to falling asleep again. "Now sshh, go back to sleep. Too early."

"I thought you were a morning person?"

One hazel eye cracked open and peered at him. "Morning, exactly. It's not even three yet, therefore not morning, therefore sleeping time."

"You're adorable," Stiles snickered, poking his nose. The arm around him tightened.

"Go back to sleep, Stiles, or I'll throw you out of the bed very early," Derek threatened.

"I just came up with the perfect way to protect the town and this is the treatment I get," Stiles huffed, bumping his forehead against the wolf's shoulder.

Quick fingers gripped his chin and pulled his head up for a surprise kiss. Curling his arm back around Stiles, Derek muttered, "Like I said, I'm very proud of you." Well, at least he was sincere about that. "If you go to sleep now, I'll blow you as a reward for the wards in the morning."

Brown eyes widened; the small trace of sleepiness which had still lingered within him completely destroyed by the promise. "You promise me that and expect me to go to sleep now?" he squeaked and slapped Derek's arm. "What the hell, Derek?!"

"I'm sure you'll manage," Derek smirked and then uttered a soft sigh. "Go to sleep now. If you're going to put up those wards, you'll need your rest."

Reluctantly Stiles acknowledged he was right. Deaton had warned him that while placing the wards would be easier than visualising them the first time, it would still be a very taxing process. He'd been advised to be well rested before even attempting to put the wards down, lest something went wrong.

"Fine, but I'm holding you on to that promise," he muttered petulantly, wriggling his leg between Derek's.

"You do that," Derek said and he could practically hear his smile. "Now sleep."

Stiles wanted to remark that that wasn't an order he could just obey like that, but pressed up against Derek, his body heat seeping through both their clothes, and being surrounded by his scent was actually having a calming effect on him and his excitement settled, drowsiness returning.

Sleep didn't take long to find him after that.

* * *

"I must say I'm impressed," Deaton murmured, pushing some jars to the side on a shelf. "I hadn't expected you to be able to visualise the wards this quickly."

"I wouldn't call taking a month to do so quickly," Stiles remarked, wrinkling his nose.

They were in Deaton's private office; Stiles having called him to tell him the news as soon as he had left Derek's apartment. Derek would have liked to join him, but there could only be one Hale present during the placement of the wards and for some unfathomable reason, that Hale had to be Peter of all people.

The man in question was lounging in a chair in front of the desk, his legs crossed and his hands resting idly on the arms of the chair. His ice blue eyes were dancing with amusement, but it was the odd calculating look which crossed them from time to time that set Stiles a bit on edge.

He knew he could trust the man in a sense – there was no way Talia would have appointed him as the Hale accompanying Stiles if he couldn't be trusted – but there was something about him that made the fox shifter be on his guard whenever the older man was nearby.

Maybe it was because he always seemed to know everything, no matter the subject. Stiles acknowledged that sounded rather hypocritical coming from the guy who had regular Wikipedia binges, but with Peter there was just something inherently discomforting about the amount of knowledge he appeared to have about everything.

"Don't discredit yourself; a month in this particular situation definitely isn't that long," Deaton said, grabbing a jar off the shelf. He screwed the lid open and studied the dark content. "Especially considering you lack experience in meditation. You said you saw the wards in your dreams? Did you meditate right before going to sleep? That might have helped inspire you."

"Or maybe _someone_ inspired you?" Peter smirked; his gaze way too knowing.

"I sort of meditated," Stiles replied and glared at Peter, whose smirk just widened.

"Well, it got you results, which is the most important part." Deaton turned around with the jar held in both hands. The lid was back on it and the black dust inside of it shimmered faintly in the light. "This is the special strain of Wolfsbane you'll be using to place the wards."

Stiles studied the jar dubiously. "And there's going to be enough in that one to surround the whole town?" he asked sceptically.

Beacon Hills wasn't exactly a major city, but it wasn't that small either – especially not with the Preserve taking up a considerably large part of it.

"Don't worry about it," Deaton smiled enigmatically. "You'll have more than enough to surround the entire town. You ready to place the wards?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Stiles said wryly and accepted the jar. It still didn't look like there was nearly enough powder in it to surround the town, but whatever. He guessed Deaton knew what he was talking about.

"Does it matter where I start placing the wards?" he remembered to ask, putting the glass jar in the bag he'd brought with him.

"Start wherever you feel is right," Deaton replied.

Of course. Had he really expected some other answer?

"Well then, let us proceed," Peter said and rose up from the chair, striding over to the door. "I've got a busy schedule today, so let's now dawdle."

"Oh yeah? What kind of busy schedule can you have?" Stiles huffed, but left the office nonetheless. It wasn't like he wanted to drag this out either. He still had an essay to finish.

"Oh you know, this and that. I've got places to be, people to visit," Peter replied; his eyes glinting amused.

Stiles decided that for once, he wasn't curious enough to ask further.

* * *

In order to place the wards, he needed to visualise them at the same time he went around creating a border with the Wolfsbane. That didn't sound too difficult, but in reality it wasn't that easy. He needed to constantly focus on the image of his wards otherwise it didn't work. And he knew when it worked, because the ground seemed to glitter for a bit before it returned to normal again. If he lost his concentration even once, there would be no glitter – and he definitely wouldn't get the sensation of things falling into place then.

It was odd to describe, but as he went around, pouring the Wolfsbane and visualising the wards, something in him seemed to click whenever he correctly finished a section of the wards. Like each section came with a chain and when he did it correctly, the chain locked onto him and settled within him.

Concentrating on the image of the wards – he thought of them as some sort of iron plates stacked together on top of each other, keeping everything out that wasn't welcome – he opened his hand and sprinkled the Wolfsbane dust on the forest floor, letting the earth absorb it and turn it into the wards he wanted. For a second the wards didn't seem to want to materialise, but he just focused on the image of them even harder. That seemed to do the trick, because when he opened his eyes, he spotted the faint shimmer of the wards settling into place.

Once that was done, he took a step back and breathed out, wiping his forehead. Despite the fact that it was December and cold as balls, he was starting to sweat; as if he was jogging instead of just walking around and placing wards. Taking a look around, he estimated he had around half of the Preserve left to do and then he would finally be finished. How long had he been working at the wards already?

"What time is it?" he asked; having left his phone behind in his jeep. He'd figured that had been the best in case someone tried to contact him and disturbed his concentration through that.

"A quarter to twelve," Peter answered casually from somewhere behind him.

Stiles blinked. Oh wow, no wonder he was getting hungry. He hadn't realised they had been at this for several hours already.

Looking behind him, he could spot Peter standing half behind a tree; his left hand in his pocket and a bored look on his face. The older man had been following him around at a short distance as silent as a ghost and once more Stiles wondered why exactly he was accompanying him when it seemed he wasn't doing anything in particular.

He knew he should continue placing the wards, especially when he only had half of the Preserve left, but curiosity got the better of him in the end and he turned fully around, facing the wolf head on.

"I've been wondering about this ever since I got told I had to place the wards," he started and Peter cocked his head to the left. "Why is it necessary that a Hale – that _you_ – accompany me for this? In fact, why can it apparently be only you when I'm sure there are other Hales who could do whatever you're doing now as well?"

"Are you telling me you haven't tried to research the reasoning behind this yet?" Peter inquired amused.

"A bit hard to do research when you have to do university work, try to come up with wards, and visit a magical tree," Stiles snipped and placed the jar for the time being on the ground between his feet. Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow. "So? Care to enlighten me, oh knowledgeable one?"

Peter looked absolutely delighted at being called that – it figured – and he came a couple of steps closer. Still he remarked, "Shouldn't you finish placing the wards?"

"I'll do the last part once you give me some answers; I'm nearly done anyways," Stiles answered impatiently.

"Suit yourself," Peter chuckled before sobering up. "I'm going to assume that the educational system hasn't declined that much that you weren't taught how society initially started?"

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "You mean how society was divided into packs at first?"

"Yes. Before society came to be as we know it now, most people were divided into packs. There were people living on their own as well of course, depending on their nature, but most people had something resembling a pack at the very least," Peter started and a distant look entered his eyes as if he was remembering something from a long time ago. "Naturally just like our society has rules in place now, each pack had their own set of rules back in the day."

That made sense. When people lived in large groups together, there had to be some system in place that would keep everyone in line. Otherwise things might get ugly at some point.

"So did my family, the Hales. When my ancestors settled here in Beacon Hills, they often had to deal with packs who were … less than gracious when passing through or attempting to live here." The corners of Peter's mouth curled up in a thin smile. "In order to deal with the ones causing a ruckus, a Left Hand was appointed."

"I take it the Left Hand didn't necessarily only do verbal confrontations." Not with the way Peter's eyes were gleaming almost viciously.

"I've always liked how quick you are on the uptake, Stiles," he said almost fondly. "No, it was not always verbal altercations which were settled by the Left Hand. Sometimes they had to deal with people in other ways."

Stiles couldn't supress a tiny shudder. "What does the Left Hand have to do with following someone placing the wards, though?"

He wasn't an idiot; Peter's small history lesson about the Left Hand could only mean he was the current one in the family. There were no enemies to deal with now, though, so he had trouble figuring out why Peter being the Left Hand meant he had to shadow him while he was placing the wards.

"Just as you are tied to the Nemeton by being an Elemental Creature, so are the Hales tied to it," Peter replied and shrugged. "The Left Hand needs to know where exactly the wards are in case trouble arises."

Huh, that explained why Peter had been there when that woman had shown up a month ago. Stiles had been wondering about that. Talia had made sense as the mayor of the town, Deaton because of the Nemeton and his dad because of his status as Sheriff, but Peter's presence had been a mystery up until now. Back then he'd just figured that Peter had been too curious to stay behind and Talia hadn't wanted to deal with trying to get him to stay away.

Peter being the Left Hand explained everything, though.

"How do you decide who becomes the Left Hand?" he questioned curiously. He wondered whether he'd be able to find more information about Left Hands or whether that was something exclusively reserved for the Hale family only.

Peter gave him a shark like grin. "That's a story for another day." He winked and waved his hand. "Now off you go, finish the rest of the wards. We don't want someone unwelcome to bother the Nemeton again."

Judging by the look on his face, though, Peter didn't look like he would mind someone unwelcome trying to get into the town.

Stiles pulled a face, but picked up the jar and walked a bit further. Just a bit more to go and then he would reward himself with some delicious curly fries. He'd earnt them after all this work.

* * *

That evening Derek surprised him by showing up with pizza at his house.

"Figured you might want something greasy after the work you did today," Derek smiled, presenting the two boxes and chucking off his leather jacket.

After he'd finished placing the wards, he'd scarfed down a basket of curly fries and a hamburger before returning home to work on his essay, but he'd been feeling exhausted the whole afternoon. He'd actually been trying to debate whether he really needed to prepare dinner for himself or whether he could skip it for one evening, so Derek showing up with delicious, greasy pizza was like heaven sent.

"I worship you and the ground you walk on," he told the older man solemnly, grabbing the two boxes and retreating to the living room.

"I thought you worshipped Lydia Martin?" Derek asked innocently, his eyes dancing with laughter.

"Well, she's not here delivering me pizza, is she?" Stiles pointed out and dropped down on the couch, letting out a satisfied sigh when he opened the first box and the scent of meat and mushrooms curled into his nostrils. He patted the space next to him. "Now come here and eat with me, so that I don't feel too guilty about inhaling greasy food twice in one day. I'll continue worshipping you after this." He waggled his eyebrows, already ripping off one piece of the pizza.

Derek snorted, but sank down next to him anyway; their thighs pressed against each other.

* * *

Stiles didn't finish his essay that night. He did, however, have a very productive evening with Derek.

 _A very, very productive one._

* * *

"So, how is Kira doing?" Stiles asked absently, shooting one of their enemies right in his head.

Even without looking directly at him, Stiles knew Scott was beaming like mad. At least he didn't let himself get distracted from the game they were playing, so that was progress.

"She's doing great!" Scott replied enthusiastically; his character ducking down before he could be hit. "Her exams will end a week before Christmas, so in a few weeks she'll be back home again."

"That's great, buddy," Stiles grinned, knowing how much Scott had missed his girlfriend.

True, they'd Skyped nearly every day and texted daily, but there was still that physical distance between them that couldn't easily be bridged with how far away she'd gone to attend college.

A knock on his bedroom door had both of them looking up from the game. Dad was standing in the doorway and his uncharacteristically solemn face had Stiles straightening up and frowning.

"Dad, is everything okay?" Maybe he was called in for something serious?

"Stiles, I just got off the phone with the sheriff of Oakdale," Dad said slowly, resting his hand against the doorframe.

"Okay … What was the call about?" Next to him, Stiles felt Scott sit up straighter as well; his fingers slack on his console.

Oakdale …Why would they be contacting his dad? They weren't exactly close to Beacon Hills.

"They were called in this morning after reports of a car burning out," Dad said and pursed his lips for a moment. When he continued, his voice gained a hint of steel. "They still need to run the ballistics tests, but the car was apparently registered on the name of Theo Raeken."

Stiles' heart started beating faster and he could only stare at dad, only vaguely aware of Scott gripping his wrist hard.

"And they managed to retrieve one finger from it."

* * *

 **AN2: How many of you did see this coming? :D The story is not over yet, though ...**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's note: It's definitely longer than last time LOL I'm working with a small time skip in this one, because it felt better that way. At the same time I don't want to rush anything, so I hope that this chapter doesn't feel like that!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: PleiadesWolfe; ShadowXMoonlight; Digidestined10; yukino76; babyvfan**

 **Warnings: Discussion about Kate and mentions of people being shot; a little bit of angst, not that much. Think that's everything for now.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like this chapter!**

* * *

 _Chapter 25_

"What are you saying?" His mouth felt oddly dry and he absurdly wished he hadn't finished his bottle of cola half an hour ago. "That Theo's … dead?"

The idea alone seemed so absurd his mind had trouble computing it. The man who'd killed several people, who'd tried to get rid of both Cora and Stiles and who had managed to escape both the Hales and the Nemeton – he was dead now? Just like that?

"We don't know for sure yet." Dad shook his head. "They'll first need to conduct a bunch of tests to find out who exactly they're dealing with, but they believe there is a chance it's Raeken, seeing as the car was registered on his name and witnesses had seen him driving around the neighbourhood with it a few hours before the call about the car on fire came in."

"When will you know who it is exactly?" Scott asked; his eyebrows furrowed.

Dad shrugged and sighed. "Depends on how fast the lab and such can work. I was told that around this time of the year they tend to be pretty busy, so there's a chance we'll only know for sure in January. They asked me to go to Oakdale tomorrow to discuss the case in more detail."

He shuffled with his feet and grimaced. "I want you to stay here, Stiles, when I'm gone. As long as we don't know for sure Raeken is really dead, it's best if you stay in Beacon Hills, just to be safe."

Stiles jerked his head down in a nod. "Yeah, no, that makes sense. Not like I want to see a burnt corpse anyway." His laugh was brittle and a tad jittery; his stomach doing several nauseating flips.

Suddenly the memory of the victim who'd been burnt to death rose up in his mind and he clenched his mouth shut, swallowing back the bile that threatened to escape. No, he definitely didn't want to join his dad on this particular trip.

Dad came over and squeezed his shoulder, his gaze soft. "Try not to think too much about it, all right?" He hesitated. "You'll be okay for a few hours? I need to go down to the precinct and tell the deputies what the sheriff of Oakdale found. Probably best if I gather all the files about Raeken too just in case."

Stiles forced himself to smile and bump dad's shoulder with his fist. "Yeah, dad, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Scott's with me anyway."

"I'll be back as soon as possible," Dad promised and left with a grim face.

A couple of minutes later the cruiser rumbled to life and disappeared down the street. Two houses further Mrs. Jones could be heard yelling for her cat Tom to return home for his dinner.

"You okay, man?" Scott asked, staring at him worriedly.

Stiles stared at the controller in his lap and absently pressed down on a button. "I don't know," he eventually settled on.

He really didn't know.

* * *

"I don't know how to feel about it," he muttered later that night in the comfort of Derek's arms.

The older man had shown up right before dinner when Scott had just been about to leave to meet up with his mom in the hospital. He'd heard from Talia what had happened and had left straight away for the Stilinski home. Dad had arrived at roughly the same time and after they had shared dinner in the form of spaghetti with meatballs – sue him for feeling too out of sorts to make something more complicated than that – dad hadn't even reacted when Derek had followed Stiles upstairs, merely calling out a goodnight to the both of them.

Not that technically dad could protest with Stiles being eighteen and all that, but still, it was appreciated that he hadn't made any remarks about it nor had kicked Derek out. Or maybe Stiles looked just as shitty as he felt and dad figured nothing remotely in the area of sexy times was going to happen anyway.

Unfortunately he was right about that. They were spooning on the bed, with Stiles being the little spoon – and a very comfortable one at that – but that was about as intimate as they would become this evening.

Absently tracing Derek's fingers, Stiles went on, "Like, on one hand I'm so incredibly relieved that that son of a bitch might actually be dead, but then again, I shouldn't be so happy about that, right? I mean, he's still a human being, so … It feels wrong to be happy about someone being possibly dead."

It had been a miracle that he'd managed to eat half of his plate tonight with how knotted his stomach had felt. Ever since being told the news, he didn't know how to react. There was relief that perhaps he could finally stop looking behind his shoulder every time he went outside, happiness that the nightmare might finally be over at last, but …

It was wrong to be happy about that, wasn't it? It wasn't right to feel happy that somebody had died.

Derek's warm breath stirred the hairs in his neck when he murmured, "Do you know why I left Beacon Hills for several years after my first Run?"

The younger man paused, resting his fingers in the palm of Derek's hand. "I don't know the details," he said slowly, "but I know my dad was called to your house, because you had a problem with the woman you'd ended up with after the Run. That's all I know. That the trouble was bad enough for you to leave Beacon Hills suddenly."

It had been quite the talk of the town when the only son of the mayor had upped and left seemingly in the middle of the night, but only the people's respect for Talia as their mayor had kept them from really gossiping about it.

Derek snorted and his arm underneath the Omega curled up to close around his hip. "I guess that's one way to put it, yeah," he said wryly and released a soft sigh. "Her name was Kate Argent and while she was several years older than me, she seemed fun when she approached me a month before the Run. We met at that café in Main Street and we started talking about the book I'd been reading back then. She was … beautiful and I was … flattered that she only paid attention to me when there were other guys desperate to get her to look at them."

For some reason Stiles' stomach did several uncomfortable flips. He thought it was because of jealousy at first, even though he knew there was nothing to be jealous about, but as he listened to Derek talk, he realised he felt uncomfortable because of how creepy this Kate person sounded.

"She was the one who found me in the woods during the Run and I … didn't see a reason to refuse, even though a part of me thought it was weird she'd gone after me when she didn't know me that well. She was beautiful and funny and interested in me and I thought, well, it's only six months. What harm could six months do?"

A lot, Stiles knew from experience. A lot of bad things could happen in six months. In less than that even.

"And for the first couple of months everything seemed okay. We went on dates, started to get to know each other and then …" Derek fell silent; his whole body tensing up.

Immediately Stiles twisted around in his hold, worried. "You don't have to keep talking about her if you don't want to," he murmured, sliding his hand around the back of Derek's neck. For a moment he thought he'd made a mistake when that made the wolf tense up even further, but then he shuddered and the Omega felt him relax slightly.

Derek shook his head. "No, I need to tell you this. It's just … I haven't talked about this since I left Beacon Hills."

"Take your time; I'm here," Stiles said quietly and rubbed soothing circles with his thumb in Derek's neck, throwing his leg over his.

Hazel coloured eyes gained a distant look when Derek continued after a while, "Turned out I should have trusted my instincts after all, because the Kate I knew wasn't the real Kate. The Kate I knew was interested in me for me. The real Kate was interested in something entirely else."

"What was it?" It started raining outside, which somehow seemed fitting for the mood descending over them.

Derek's smile was bitter when he answered, "Money. She'd found out that I had inherited a large sum upon turning eighteen as stipulated by my great uncle's will."

"She tried to steal your money?" Stiles asked appalled.

Derek's dark chuckle sent shivers down his spine. "Oh no, she saw it much bigger than that. She wanted the entire Hale vault."

"How was she planning on getting that? I mean, it's not like your parents would have just given up the money." He didn't know how loaded the Hales exactly were, but given the professions they practiced, he imagined their bank accounts had several digits in them.

"She wanted to kill us all by burning us alive." Derek sounded so calm, so affably, as if he hadn't just said something horrific.

"She planned to kill you by burning you alive?" Stiles breathed out horrified, gaping at the other man. Holy shit, what had been wrong with that bitch?

"Yeah, she had it all planned out perfectly," Derek said grimly; his arm tightening around the younger man. "She waited until an evening when she knew we would all be at home and then used gloves to make a circle of Wolfsbane around the house so we couldn't escape once the fire started. She'd even made a fake will in which basically all of our assets would have gone to her after our deaths."

"What the fuck was wrong with her?" Stiles spluttered, his hand pausing in Derek's neck. "How could she just decide to burn you all alive for some money?"

What kind of evil bitch did one have to be to want to murder an entire family just to get their hands on some money? What made it even more disgusting was the fact that she'd played with Derek's feelings to get into the position to try to kill the Hales. She'd preyed on a young man and then had tried to kill his entire family.

He hoped she would burn in hell for that.

No wonder his dad had looked so grim and out of sorts when he'd finally returned home after that night.

"She wanted an easy life apparently," Derek replied quietly. "She hadn't counted on Uncle Peter showing up later than usual, though. He caught her in the middle of spreading Wolfsbane and attacked her. If mom hadn't stopped him, he would have torn her throat out."

Stiles couldn't say he blamed Peter for wanting to do that. He didn't think he would have been able to stop himself if he had caught someone wanting to kill his dad.

"After Uncle Peter and Laura had subdued her, mom called your dad and while he was handling everything, I told my parents I couldn't stay in Beacon Hills anymore. Not after I nearly got my family killed because I'd refused to listen to my instincts."

Stiles shot up and glared at Derek, who looked back startled. "None of that was your fault, Derek! She's the creepy psycho who went after you for your family's money; the only one to blame for what happened is that bitch! You did nothing wrong!"

Oddly that made Derek smile and he sat up as well, cupping Stiles' left cheek. "That's what Laura screamed at me too when she found out I was leaving town."

"I've always thought she's very smart," Stiles muttered and placed his hand on top of Derek's, staring at him imploringly. "I mean it, Derek. Nothing that happened that night was your fault. It's that psycho's fault for being so greedy. You're innocent."

"Some days that's easier to believe than other days," Derek muttered, twisting his hand around to tangle their fingers together. He lowered their hands between them on the bed, staring at them.

Stiles guessed that that was true for Derek, even though everyone else knew without a doubt that he couldn't be blamed for how psychopathic that Kate bitch had turned out to be. His experience was just another reason why the Run was outdated as shit and had to be wiped out of existence – or at least made into a voluntarily basis instead of the obligatory one it was now. He suspected a lot of shit could be prevented if people no longer were forced to attend the Run and risk encountering creeps.

They were silent for a while, the rain outside kicking up a notch and hitting the window loudly, before Stiles' morbid curiosity became too hard to ignore and he asked, "What happened to her after that?"

Derek blinked, looking a bit startled as if he'd fallen into some sort of daze and Stiles' voice had jarred him out of it. "She got put behind bars. Uncle Peter was quite disappointed about that," he snorted softly. "Her trial was set to start eight months after that, but she tried to escape a week before she would be brought to court. She managed to get a hold on a gun and threatened a couple of security officers."

Stiles started to get a feeling where this was heading to, why Derek had chosen to share this story with him tonight, and he ended up being right.

"When she fired a shot at one of them, they all fired their guns at her." Derek paused, his fingers spasming around Stiles'. His voice was a bit rough when he continued, "They brought her to the hospital, but she died on the way there. They called my mom to tell her the news and then she called me."

He raised his head to look at the younger man and sighed softly. "I remember that night very clearly, because I'd just fallen asleep after finally finishing a long paper and then at three o'clock, my mom rang me and told me Kate had died. And for the first few hours, I just sat there in my bed, trying to figure out how I should react to that. My first reaction was being relieved, because her being dead meant she could never hurt my family again. She might not have got that trial, but she was gone either way and would never bother us again. Then I started thinking I couldn't feel relieved about the death of someone else, no matter how much I despised them." He shrugged and pressed his lips tightly together.

"I struggled with how I was supposed to feel for weeks, thinking it was wrong of me to feel relief and then Laura visited me and you know what she said?"

Stiles shook his head silently.

"She said I could feel whatever the hell I wanted, and that I wasn't obligated to feel sorry for that 'fucking bitch', because she'd got what she'd deserved," Derek replied and there was a faint smile lingering around his mouth. "And she followed that up with the promise to beat me up if I ever felt guilty again for being relieved."

"That sounds like Laura, all right," Stiles snickered, but sobered up quickly. "I know why you're telling me this, I get it, but … I still feel like an awful person for being happy about this if it's indeed Theo who died. It makes me feel like … I'm evil." He shrugged uncomfortably.

A startled noise escaped him when Derek swiftly pulled him into his arms and Stiles ended up straddling him just to make the position a bit more comfortable. One hand resting on the small of his back, the other went up to cup his neck, squeezing it softly.

"You could never be an evil person, Stiles. You don't have that in you," Derek told him and brushed their mouths together in a sweet, barely there kiss. "I know a bit of what you're going through now, and I know from my own personal experience that just because everyone tells you it's fine to feel relieved and happy, that that doesn't mean you stop feeling guilty about it. They're right, though. Whatever you feel, relieved or happy or just nothing, it's fine. I can tell you this, though: you've got nothing to feel guilty about."

"I just want this nightmare to finally be over," Stiles muttered and rested his head on a strong shoulder.

"Yeah, me too." Arms slipped around him, embracing him.

He could only hope the examiner would finish his work quickly, so that he could finally put this whole shitfest behind him.

* * *

Dad returned home the following day late in the evening with the Oakdale Sheriff's promise that he would be notified immediately once the results of the autopsy were in.

There wasn't much else they could do after that, so Stiles just focused on his online classes and his visits to the Nemeton, making certain to spend time with Scott and Derek as well, now that at least the meditation part was over.

With Christmas creeping up steadily, the weather changed from rainy to very cold, icy winds cutting their skin whenever they ventured outside. The weather report promised a snowy Christmas and Stiles prayed his jeep would survive the snow if it came to that. Roscoe was already quite temperamental on a normal weather day; he didn't want to find out just how bad she could become if snow was added on top of that.

Still, even with the worry about his jeep and the whole mess with Theo lingering in the back of his mind, it was hard to ignore the holiday cheer decorating the entire town. All kinds of Christmas decorations glittered and shone and gleamed in the centre of the town and in the front yards of houses. The colours red, green and golden nearly blinded you wherever you looked and one just had to set one foot inside a store to hear Christmas music blaring through the speakers.

Stiles blamed the whole situation with the Nemeton and the possible death of Theo for why he'd procrastinated for so long to buy his Christmas presents. Being bumped and pushed and forced to stand in long queues to pay for the gifts was a very painful reminder why all those years before he'd made sure to buy the goods at least a month before Christmas started – especially because this year he had significantly more presents to purchase.

Well, he supposed he could start that habit again next year.

Hey, that could be his New Year's resolution! That was at least a more reasonable resolution than that one year he'd promised he would go on long runs in his human form four times a week or that one year he'd sworn he would get rid of his Reese's peanut butter cups addiction. That particular resolution had lasted an impressive three weeks before he'd caved.

Whatever, those cups were amazing. Who could blame him for breaking that resolution?

Either way, his resolution for next year would be to stop procrastinating to buy gifts and he was going to nail that one!

Normally.

Should be doable.

Now, though, he still needed to find a gift for Lydia before she would rip his head off with her perfectly manicured nails for not getting her anything. He loved that girl – in a completely platonic way now, of course – but man, if she still didn't scare the shit out of him sometimes.

* * *

"Cora made it quite clear that she's not planning on driving my car back in this weather and if I ever dare to suggest such a stupid idea again, she's going to rip off my balls and make me eat them," Derek said flatly, walking into the living room where he dropped his phone on the table.

"What did you do to piss her off that badly?" Stiles raised an eyebrow, turning away from the large window through which he'd been staring at the snowy blanket which only grew thicker and thicker with each hour that passed.

It had started snowing twenty minutes after he'd arrived at Derek's apartment and it didn't look like it would stop any time soon. The temperature had also dropped below freezing for the first time this winter, meaning the snow wouldn't melt away any time soon either. Two days before Christmas, it looked like the weather report would be right after all when they'd predicted snow.

On top of that, Stiles' jeep refused to start no matter what he or Derek tried. It wasn't even outside; it was parked in the garage of the building, but apparently the cold was enough for Roscoe to give up completely. At most they had got some kind of weird grinding noise out of it before they had both given up on trying to start the jeep.

Derek had suggested driving him home in the Camaro, but Cora had borrowed that car today because her own car was in the shop. Considering evening had already fallen, Derek had thought Cora would be finished with everything she had needed the car for and had called her to ask to drive the Camaro back.

No dice apparently.

Derek scowled and dropped down on the couch. "I didn't do anything, don't know why she's so pissed off, considering it's _my_ car," he grumbled. "Guess Laura pissed her off again and she's acting it out on me."

"So I guess I better call my dad then and tell him not to expect me home tonight," Stiles said lightly, fishing for his phone in pocket.

Dad had taken the night shift today so he could take Christmas off, so at least he wouldn't come home to an empty house tonight.

"Stiles, please tell me you didn't crash your jeep because of the snow," Dad greeted him with a groan.

Stiles paused, staring blankly at the window. "You got a couple of calls like that already?"

"Yes, apparently people don't understand the notion of driving carefully in bad weather," Dad growled annoyed.

"Well, you'll be happy to hear that no, I didn't crash the jeep," Stiles said cheerfully and from his peripheral vision, he noticed Derek turning his head to look at him. "Roscoe, however, won't start and Cora refuses to drive the Camaro back, so do you mind if I stay at Derek's apartment tonight?"

Dad let out a long, gusty sigh. "I don't really have much of a choice than to agree, do I? The roads are horrible tonight, so it's best to stay where you are. Call me in the morning if your jeep still doesn't start and Derek doesn't have his car back; I'll come pick you up then."

"Will do, thanks," Stiles smiled and wandered away from the window, sinking down next to Derek on the couch. "Be safe tonight."

"Always. You too."

They said their goodbyes before they hung up and Stiles dropped his phone on the table as well, stretching out his legs. "You want to watch a movie before we go to sleep?" he suggested, grabbing the remote before snuggling into Derek's side.

They'd had dinner two hours ago before they had attempted to start his jeep, but it was still too early in Stiles' opinion to go to sleep. Who went to sleep at eight o'clock? Aside from old or sick people anyway.

"Fine with me." Derek shrugged and rested one arm around his shoulder. "Your dad has the night shift today?"

Stiles hummed in confirmation. "Yeah, so he can have Christmas day off. You're sure your mom won't mind us having over? Scott and his mom are thinking of tagging along as well."

"Nah, the more the merrier, she'd say," Derek replied dryly. "Kira not coming?"

"No, apparently her parents insist on celebrating Christmas between the three of them only."

"Bet that didn't make Scott happy," Derek snorted; his thumb rubbing circles in the Omega's shoulder.

"He's been sulking about it all week," Stiles smiled wryly.

He felt sorry for his best friend, especially because Stiles himself would be able to spend Christmas with his mate, but at least the Yukimuras had agreed to have Scott over on Christmas Eve.

* * *

They finally settled on watching some movie that dealt with a mafia clan and it was a particular scene in that movie that sparked Stiles' memory of the conversation he'd had with Peter when he'd been placing the wards.

He and Derek had ended up shifting positions on the couch with Stiles ending up lying against Derek's chest between his legs with his head against a very firm stomach – it was seriously so unfair how firm those muscles were – so he had to tilt his head backwards in order to look at the older man.

"Hey Derek, do you know how it's decided who becomes a Left Hand in your family?"

It took a couple of seconds before Derek tore his gaze away from the television – he'd become quite absorbed by it – and he looked down quizzically at him.

"Where did that question come from?"

Haphazardly, Stiles waved his hand at the television. "Oh you know, I had a conversation with Peter about that back when I was placing the wards and I wanted to know why he was following me around like a creepy stalker," Derek choked, "and he ended up basically admitting he's the Left Hand in your family and that's why he was following me, because he needed to know where the wards are. Watching this movie got me thinking about that again, so how does that get decided? Like is it a title that gets handed down from father to son or so? Or do you need to undergo some kind of exam?"

Derek blinked. "Uncle Peter is the Left Hand, yes, but I don't know how that gets decided. It's a secret only the Left Hand and its successor know about. Why don't you ask Uncle Peter about it?"

"I did," Stiles pouted. "And he said it was a story for another day. Can't find anything useful on the internet either."

"I doubt you will, considering it's a tradition not many families practice anymore," Derek murmured and linked his hands on top of Stiles' stomach. "If you really want to know, you'll have to ask Uncle Peter; I'm sure he'll be delighted to display all his knowledge about it if you ask him nicely."

"If he didn't want to tell me back then, what makes you think he'll tell me about it now?"

"Because if there's one thing my uncle loves, it's being the centre of attention and showing off just how smart he is," Derek snorted. "If you play your cards right and play nice, he'll tell you."

"Why would he tell me that, though? You just said it's a secret only the Left Hand and the successor know," Stiles pointed out and poked Derek's left hand.

Hazel eyes rolled. "Because believe it or not, my uncle's actually rather fond of you and if he already admitted to you that he's the Left Hand, then he won't make an issue about giving you more information about it. He just likes to string people along, that's all."

"I'm not sure whether Peter being fond of me is a good thing," Stiles mumbled pensively.

"It is, if you want answers from him," Derek retorted. "He's not that bad once you get to know him better."

"I beg to differ," Stiles muttered, but quietened down to watch the rest of the movie. He'd figure out later whether he'd go bother Peter for more information.

* * *

They ended up watching the first half of an old Christmas movie before Stiles grew too restless and they instead moved to the bedroom.

The snow was still falling gently down from the sky, creating a thick blanket on the windowsill and Stiles watched the tiny snowflakes join the rest while Derek went about turning off the lights and closing doors to keep the warmth inside.

Stiles turned his attention to Derek when he walked into the bedroom and blinked when the light was shut off, blanketing them in darkness, except for the window. The curtains weren't drawn yet, but Derek made quick work of those before getting into the bed with Stiles; the sheets rustling as he settled underneath them.

"Hi," Stiles grinned, shuffling closer.

"Hi," Derek smiled back, his hands wandering over Stiles' thighs before they settled like hot brands on his waist underneath his shirt.

The impromptu sleepover had left him with no other choice than to wear a shirt and some sweatpants from Derek and judging by the soft growls and the incessant nuzzling in his neck Derek subjected him to, the older man didn't seem to mind it that he was borrowing his clothes.

In fact, quite the opposite it seemed, when Stiles pressed himself closer and closer against Derek until he ended up straddling him; their hips bumping against each other. Hard heat pushed back against him and Stiles nipped at Derek's lower lip, rolling his hips leisurely against Derek's.

Derek's fingers tightened around Stiles' waist, digging into the skin slightly, and Derek caught his mouth in a deep kiss, forgoing the teasing nips and licks. His shirt rucked up a bit when Derek's hands wandered higher, travelling curiously over soft skin. Stiles' own hands weren't idle either, slipping underneath Derek's own shirt and touching warm skin. He shivered when Derek pulled him even closer, their bare stomachs touching, and sighed when a tongue slipped between his lips to curl playfully around his own.

Perhaps it was the somewhat romantic setting of being in a bedroom with his boyfriend while outside the snow covered everything in a pristine white blanket, the stars twinkling above in the midnight black sky. Maybe it was the warmth rapidly pooling in the pit of his stomach, the caressing and touching and kissing which messed with his brain functions.

Maybe it was because he wanted to feel more, wanted to completely surround himself with Derek. _Derek's scent, Derek's body, Derek's touch, Derek's kisses …_

Head spinning from the deep kiss, he pulled back with a gasp and catching shimmering hazel eyes, he murmured, "I want to have sex with you."

The air between them changed instantly.

* * *

 **AN2: Yeah, I did end it there. Felt like being a tad evil I suppose *shrugs* That said, I hope this didn't come across as rushed! You'll find out more soon about Theo's possible demise - maybe in the next chapter already, depending on how long that one becomes *hums***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's note: A lot later than I intended to, for which I apologise. For some reason the chapter refused to cooperate with me, despite the fact that I knew which scenes I wanted in it. Well, at least I managed to finish it; better late than never I suppose ^^;**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: PleiadesWolfe; babyvfan; yukino76; Myxes; Digidestined10; ShadowXMoonlight; XLivi-ChanXCrazyGalX**

 **Warnings: Implied mature content, including knotting (for full version, please visit my profile for more information); small time skips. I think those are the most important warnings for this one.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 26_

They both froze, staring at each other like a deer caught in the headlights. While outwardly Stiles could do nothing but stare wide-eyed, inwardly he was screaming and freaking out, berating himself for just blurting it out like that.

Oh god, what the hell had he been thinking, just blurting it out like that?! You were supposed to have a serious conversation about it first, weren't you? Like what you expected of it and what you wanted exactly, definitely not just stating it like that out of the blue!

He cringed, retracting his hands like they'd been coated with Wolfsbane. "Sorry, just – ignore me, we can go on with what we're doing, it's fine. Ignore what I said."

Derek's hands felt like shackles around his hips and his multicoloured eyes radiated intensity when he asked softly, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I mean, only if you want to," Stiles replied, licking his lips nervously. "Obviously I'm not going to force you, so it's you know, cool if you don't want to." He laughed jittery and instantly clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to sound more like a weirdo than he already did.

"I didn't think you would want it already," Derek said and glanced away briefly before he looked at the Omega again.

Whether he'd intended to or not, his remark made Stiles feel even more like a weirdo and his cheeks heated up with embarrassment. Was it strange of him to want to have sex with Derek now? Sure, they'd only been together for a couple of months by now, but …

He felt at ease with the wolf, knew without a doubt the older man would never do anything to hurt him. He trusted him – and wasn't that enough? Or was there something wrong with him for wanting to sleep with Derek already? Was he supposed to wait longer?

"Okay, that came out wrong," Derek said chagrined and Stiles stared at him, for once not having any idea what to say. "I just meant – are you really sure you want this? I don't want you to feel like you have to sleep with me, just because you're spending the night with me."

"I want to; I'm feeling no obligation whatsoever here. If you want to, I'm game," Stiles hurried to reassure him.

Derek's chuckle had his chest warming and he brought his hands back around Derek's neck, playing with the soft strands of hair.

"So … you want to?" he asked softly, biting on his lower lip.

Derek's hands slipped around to rest on his ass. "You've taken your suppressants?"

"Yeah, this morning. I've been taking them on time ever since I got back on them, so we're safe," Stiles assured him; excitement growing. This was really going to happen, wasn't it?

"Guess our plans for the rest of the night are decided then," Derek smirked and pulled him into a deep kiss before the younger man could open his mouth to say something.

Stiles was totally fine with not speaking, though, especially if that meant he could keep kissing Derek; feeling those skilful lips manipulating him into parting his own. Little sparks like electricity danced across his spine when the tips of their tongues met and he pressed himself closer urgently; his hands going down to tug at the edge of Derek's shirt, pulling it up.

"This needs to go off," he muttered against Derek's lips and they curled into a smile against his, before the older man briefly pulled away to take it off, throwing it carelessly somewhere on the floor.

Stiles spent a couple of seconds mourning the loss of Derek's mouth, but then was treated to the sight of the man half naked, his chest hair tapering down into a thin line which disappeared beneath the waistline of his sweatpants.

"Let's get you out of this," Derek murmured and Stiles' vision was momentarily obscured when his shirt – or really Derek's – was pulled over his face.

He remembered in time to lift his arms up and he blinked when Derek whipped it to the floor before twisting them both around so that the fox shifter ended up on his back on the bed. Stiles' breath escaped him in a hiss when Derek settled between his spread legs and rolled their hips almost torturously slow against each other; their crotches sliding against each other through the thin fabric of their sweatpants.

They had fooled around before of course, both with clothes and with pants down when they had jerked and sucked each other off. They weren't strangers anymore to intimacy between them, yet somehow tonight felt different.

Different in the way Derek touched him, slowly, methodically, almost reverently as he stroked and caressed him, playing with his nipples until they turned into rosy peaks, pebbling eagerly underneath his thumb and tongue. Different in the way they kissed: first soft, almost tentatively, then hard and passionate, bruising each other's lips. They nipped and licked at mouths until they parted and sucked softly at each other's tongue until Stiles' toes curled into the sheets.

They pulled apart only to rid each other of their remaining clothes and Stiles' breath hitched when he saw the fire in Derek's eyes growing fiercer; his pupils dilating with lust. When they kissed next, it was so fierce it pulled an involuntarily whimper out of Stiles and _that_ had Derek snarling, boring him down into the bed; one hand gripping brown strands to hold Stiles' head steady so he could plunder his mouth, while the other roamed across his chest and belly, flicking his nipple and pulling another gasp out of him.

Not to be outdone even if it was hard to concentrate with the pleasure overloading his system, Stiles ran his own hands down a firm chest, tweaking firm nipples before honing into the hardness digging into the crease of his hip. When he gripped it and flicked his thumb across the tip, he received a low, rumbling growl for his efforts and he grinned, running his fingers up and down teasingly across the thick girth.

A part of him was worried Derek wouldn't be able to fit in him – because holy shit, he hadn't really realised just how big Derek was until he was about to go inside of him – but the rest of him was almost too eager to know how it would feel like to have Derek inside of him, to have his mate moving in him.

He must have said that last part aloud, because Derek groaned and nipped his chin, muttering raspy, "Can't wait either. Let me get the lube." When he lifted his head, his cheeks were flushed and his iris' were nearly completely swallowed up by the blackness of his pupils. Only a sliver of gold was still visibly and the sight of him had Stiles licking his lips.

"Go for it," he said breathlessly, even as he pushed his hips up and couldn't convince his hand to let go of the large shaft in his hand.

Derek gave him another deep kiss before basically leaping out of the bed in his hurry to open the third drawer of the nightstand. That had Stiles laughing until the wolf got back onto the bed and captured his mouth in a filthy kiss, effectively shutting him up.

Linking his arms around strong shoulders, he opened his legs wider when he felt fingers drifting over his groin, down his balls and between his ass cheeks where they briefly paused at his entrance. When those digits didn't move fast enough for Stiles' liking, he whined and pushed his ass down, biting down on his lip when he felt one of them pressing against his entrance.

"So impatient," Derek muttered, sucking another spot in the fox's neck.

If it weren't for their fast healing, Stiles was pretty sure he'd be sporting beard burn and hickies for days. As it was, it would still take several hours before his neck was healed completely after Derek's treatment of it so far – not that he was complaining. Far from it.

"No need to stall on my account!" Stiles retorted without missing a beat and then yelped when Derek pushed a finger inside of him, slipping straight past the ring of muscles. "Oh my god!"

"You were saying?" Derek asked rather smugly and that just wouldn't do.

So Stiles grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to kiss him, wrapping his left leg around his waist. "I said, get a move on!"

Derek's eyes darkened and then Stiles knew nothing else but fingers filling him, stretching him further than he'd been stretched before. Sometimes the tips of those fingers would touch something deep inside of him, something which had ramped up the pleasure tenfold and had him panting and moaning, scrabbling at Derek's back just to ground himself at least a little bit. He'd be embarrassed of the sounds escaping his mouth if he could bring himself to give a shit about them.

He couldn't, though, not with the sensations Derek's fingers were eliciting; not with the pleasure and heat melting his brain, overriding the slight ache of being fuller than normally; not with the filthy, almost depraved kisses they shared.

When he thought he was close to coming, he pulled himself together enough to push at Derek's hand, gasping, "I'm ready, I'm ready! I need you in me, like right now!"

This time Derek didn't give him a snarky reply, but pulled his fingers out, his teeth flashing when that made Stiles whine softly, and then he was hastily coating himself with some of the lube before discarding the bottle somewhere next to them. Chest heaving, he gripped Stiles' hips and gazed at him.

"You ready?"

In response Stiles just pulled him down, wrapping his legs around him. Derek huffed in amusement, but aligned himself with the Omega's entrance and started pushing inside.

He was definitely bigger and thicker than his fingers had been and Stiles released a shaky breath as Derek pushed deeper and deeper into him. No matter how much the Beta had stretched him, an ache was still starting to form at the base of his back and his arms tightened around Derek's shoulders. Pushing his face into the wolf shifter's neck, he forced himself to take slow breaths, trying to relax his muscles as much as he could.

That was difficult, though, when he felt like he was being impaled by something too big.

He bit down hard on his lower lip when Derek finally bottomed out, his hips flush against his arse. Derek was breathing harshly, his eyebrows furrowed, but his fingers were surprisingly tender when they brushed across Stiles' cheek.

"You okay?" he murmured, pressing soft kisses on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose.

"Y-yeah, just – give me a sec, okay?" he said weakly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Fuck, but this actually hurt quite a bit. Even with the extensive prep he'd been giving, he still felt like he hadn't been stretched anywhere near enough for someone of Derek's size. Or maybe he was just tensing up too much. With a huff, he forced himself to completely unclench his muscles and oh yeah, that definitely did help. He still felt full, almost too, but it was starting to feel less overwhelming and most importantly, less painful.

Once he was relatively certain he was ready, he kissed Derek's shoulder and muttered, "You can move now."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, go on," he sighed and clenched his teeth when Derek drew back slowly.

Okay, yeah, no, that still hurt a bit, almost like he was chafing down there, but once Derek started kissing him and started moving in earnest, occasionally bumping that particular spot inside of him, things got better. A lot better. It was even starting to feel good, like really, really good.

"I'm glad," Derek said, laughter clear in his voice and Stiles flushed, realising he must have been speaking aloud again.

To prevent himself from saying anymore embarrassing shit, he kissed Derek again and again, and started moving his hips tentatively too, growing more confident once he'd figured out the rhythm and had Derek growling against his mouth.

That _definitely_ did things to him.

Heat was bubbling up in his lower stomach and he could feel himself getting closer and closer, inching to the point where he would lose himself. Brain completely mushy with delirious pleasure, he still sensed something was off after a while. He frowned, blinking unseeingly at the ceiling as Derek kissed and sucked his neck, and tried to figure out what was wrong.

He was definitely getting closer to the point of no return, his toes and fingertips tingling, heat setting him alight from within, but that wasn't it. It was … It was …

"Holy shit, are you growing?" he blurted out amazed when he'd finally pinpointed what was so off.

Derek was still moving in him, quicker than at the beginning, but he also seemed to be growing bigger and bigger to the point where he seemed to be having trouble getting deeper in him. He'd already felt pretty big and hard before, though, so why …

Derek abruptly stopped moving and Stiles hissed when he pulled back; the action tugging at his entrance for some reason. When the older man looked down first before staring at him in shock, Stiles couldn't say he was feeling particularly at ease now.

"Is something wrong?" he asked uncertainly, pleasure starting to eb away at the thought that something bad was happening.

"Eh, not exactly," Derek said slowly; a strange look crossing his face before he awkwardly admitting, "I'm – I'm close to knotting you."

"Knotting me," Stiles repeated blankly and stared down as well, though he could see much in the position they were. "Knotting as in …"

"As in my dick growing bigger so I'm stuck in you when I come," Derek replied through gritted teeth; his nails digging into Stiles' thighs. "Shit, that's never happened before, I didn't - "

"Never?" Stiles cut him off, something squirming inside of him. "Not even with her?"

"No, this is the first time I … Sorry, I didn't realise this was going to happen," Derek muttered, frustrated. "Don't worry about it, I can pull out before I knot you, so - "

"You can knot me!" Stiles blurted out, clearing his throat when Derek stared at him in shock. "I mean, if you want, you can knot me. I – I don't mind, so if you want ..."

"We'd be stuck for at least half an hour if not longer," Derek pointed out, licking his lips. "I don't know how long I'll be knotting you, this hasn't happened before."

"I don't care," Stiles stated, pleasure steadily building up once more now that he knew nothing was wrong. His fingers tingled when he ran them down Derek's arms and he squeezed his muscles around him, smiling when that made Derek moan. "You can knot me. I want it. I want your knot."

The words made him blush, but they did the trick. Derek's eyes positively burned when he bent over to catch Stiles' mouth in a deep, bruising kiss and he started moving again, thrusting deeper and harder this time, constantly striking that one spot that had Stiles babbling non-sensical words drowned out in moans and whimpers.

Now that he knew Stiles wanted it, Derek seemed to have stopped holding himself back. His thrusts grew deep and more powerful; his hands tightened around Stiles' hips like vices to help him push him down on him. His knot kept growing in the meantime, the bulbous form pushing against Stiles' entrance every time Derek thrusted inside. Their rhythm grew more erratic as Derek tried to push his knot past the ring of muscles putting up resistance.

There was only so much resistance they could give, however, and Stiles couldn't help the scream that was torn out of him when Derek's knot – a lot bigger than he already was – finally popped inside of him. The shock of it, the pain mixed with blinding pleasure, had Stiles climaxing so hard he was on the verge of blacking out, shuddering and squirming underneath Derek.

"You're doing so good, so great, taking my knot in you," Derek was whispering fervently when he finally came to again, kissing his tears away and stroking his arms and chest and belly. His hips were moving in short, stuttering thrusts and he was moaning softly, shivering like he was cold.

When Stiles felt something drip out of him, he realised Derek was coming – a lot apparently.

"So good, so wet for me," Derek muttered, pupils blown and Beta gold glowing; his fangs descended. "All mine, my mate. Mine." He nuzzled Stiles' neck, squeezing him tighter against him as he kept coming.

Derek sounded absolutely blissed out and Stiles would definitely tease him about the praising comments he kept muttering in his skin and against his mouth. Later, though. Much later.

For now he was more than content to lie in Derek's arms, kissing him, and just feeling loved and cared for.

* * *

Christmas at the Hales started with Laura greeting them at the front door before she smirked knowingly and smacked Derek on his shoulder, ignoring his scowl.

"Guess you two already had a pre-celebration of your own this weekend, huh?" She winked, her eyes glittering like mad. They definitely out glittered the shimmery soft green eyeshadow she'd chosen to wear today. "Made use of being snowed in I see."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stiles squeaked, praying he wasn't as red as he feared he was turning right now.

She gave him an unimpressed look while Derek growled warningly. "Oh please, you're not fooling anyone," she scoffed and waved them inside. "Now come on in before dad starts complaining about the bill again."

Cora was the next one to greet them, coming down the stairs just as Stiles and Derek were removing their jackets and while she smiled at first, she quickly recoiled and uttered a disgusted noise.

"I showered!" Stiles said exasperatedly, but checked himself just to be sure. Yeah, see? Squeaky clean.

"Ain't no way you're getting my brother's stink off you any time soon," she drawled, wrinkling her nose. "Especially not if you're taking a shower with him."

"Is everyone going to comment on our sex life?" Stiles demanded right when his dad walked into the hallway. Mortified he stared at the older man, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here right now. "Ehm, hi dad, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, son, Derek," he said dryly. "I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear the conversation before if that's okay with you."

"Perfectly all right with me, dad," Stiles hurried to reassure him and scowled at Cora when she snorted.

She smirked and raised her hands. "Not my fault you come here reeking of my brother. You're not exactly subtle about what you've been doing this weekend, you know."

"Piss off," he grumbled before Scott poked his head into the hallway and grinned.

"Dude, Merry Christmas!"

Leaving Derek to his bickering with Cora after she'd made a remark about him finally getting laid, Stiles went over to his best friend and hugged him.

"Merry Christmas, man, is your mom here too?"

"Yeah, I think she's in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Hale."

Stiles went to the kitchen next, figuring he might as well finish his rounds wishing everyone a Merry Christmas – and hopefully the rest of them would be more subtle than Cora and Laura and wouldn't remark on how he apparently still reeked of Derek.

Which he didn't because he'd taken a thorough shower, but whatever. Must have missed a spot after all.

* * *

They were playing card games after a big lunch while an old Christmas movie was playing in the background, when Stiles noticed Peter slipping out of the room. Remembering his conversation with Derek about the older man on Friday, he excused himself from the table, letting his dad take his place, and left the room. Might as well go find out whether Derek was right or not.

There were footsteps sounding upstairs so he took the stairs, two steps at a time, and let the soft noise of Peter walking around guide him to the right place. When he peered into the room, he spotted Peter sitting in a comfortable chair, a book open on his lap. The wolf looked up when he sensed him standing there and raised an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" he asked mildly.

Stiles walked inside, figuring that was as good a "Welcome, do come in" he was going to get. "Just wondering why you're hauling yourself up here instead of celebrating Christmas downstairs with the rest of us."

"I'm not really that fond of partaking in festivities such as this one," Peter smiled thinly. "I promised my sister I'd be there until lunch and now that we've all eaten, I'm going to enjoy my book in complete peace and solitude." He gave a very pointed look when he finished talking.

"Sounds like a solid plan," Stiles said and clasped his hands behind his back. "But before you do that, I want to ask you something."

"Whether you really do smell like my darling nephew?" Peter asked dryly. "Yes, Stiles, you positively reek of him. If that's all, I've got here an interesting book which requires my attention."

"That's not what I wanted to ask, you dickhead." Stiles glared at him and the other man smirked.

"Well, you know now for sure. What do you want, Stiles."

"Punctuation marks," Stiles muttered before asking in a louder voice, "How does one become a Left Hand?"

"You're still on about that?" Peter snorted, stretching out his legs.

"Well, you never answered my question back then, only told me it was a story for another time. Today is another time," Stiles pointed out, rocking back on his heels.

"You're not going to let this go until I tell you about it, hm?"

"With how interesting this whole Left Hand business? Fat chance," Stiles retorted, raising an eyebrow of his own. "So, how does one go about becoming a Left Hand? Do you need to ace some test, some exam or so?"

"Interested in the Left Hand business, Stiles?" Peter purred, his eyes glinting.

"Call me interested in the process," Stiles said, baring his teeth in what one could consider to be a smile if they were optimistic.

Peter cocked his head to the right and hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose telling you wouldn't do much harm – and it would finally give me some peace and quiet."

"Win-win all around."

"It's simple, really: the current Left Hand decides who will become the next one. Although not through an exam I'm afraid. Too mundane," Peter smirked.

"But they have to go through some kind of test, right? I doubt just anyone can become a Left Hand."

The older man inclined his head. "True, very few people have it in them to become a Left Hand. The test exists in the sense that I study people for certain qualities that a good Left Hand should have. If I find a person with such particular qualities, I'll offer to teach them all I know so they can take the task over from me when I retire."

"Does the Left Hand have to be from the same pack?" Stiles asked and then shook his head. "Stupid question, yeah, of course they're from the same pack."

"Normally they are, yes, because it's easier, but sometimes it happens that an outsider is chosen if they're close enough to the pack."

Now that was some very interesting information. The Omega leant slightly forwards. "You're not training anyone now, are you?"

"I do not, no," Peter answered amused.

"Do you have some people in mind, though?"

The glint in those ice blue eyes grew stronger. "I do, yes, though I'm afraid I can't indulge the names of them. I need to have some secrecy left after all."

That was rather disappointing, but Stiles understood why. Keeping the future Left Hand a secret made sense; it would make taking their enemies off guard a lot easier. For a brief moment he wondered whether Theo had known Peter was the Left Hand of the Hales, but then he brushed the thought away. He wasn't going to spoil this holiday with thoughts of that son of a bitch, even if he might be dead.

"I'm curious, though – from where does this persistent interest in the Left Hand come from?" Peter inquired, his eyes half lidded. His hands rested on the open book and he looked completely relaxed in his chair.

Stiles shrugged. "I'm a curious guy, especially when it comes to subjects I can barely find any information about."

"Hm." Peter studied him with such sharp eyes, Stiles had to resist the urge to squirm. Then the wolf relaxed and his eyes cleared up. "Well, you've your answers now, so run along. Don't want my dear nephew to think we're having a secret rendezvous up here."

"As if," Stiles grimaced and shuddered, swiftly turning around. Before he left the room, he muttered, "Thanks for telling me."

"Not a problem, my curious little fox."

Eugh, why did he have to be so creepy? Leaving a snickering Peter to his reading material, Stiles made his way back downstairs where at the moment a loud argument was occurring between Laura and Cora, both accusing each other of cheating.

So Peter was the one who decided who'd become the next Left Hand, huh? It would be interesting to see who he would choose as his successor. Some as calculating and ruthless as Peter himself probably, but Stiles couldn't think of anyone who'd fit that bill.

Oh well, he'd find out eventually he supposed.

In the meantime he had a best friend and a boyfriend to crush in a new card game.

* * *

January settled in with more snow at the start before it was satisfied with just freezing temperatures. That still didn't make it easier for Roscoe to start, though, so at least in that regard Stiles was glad he didn't know yet whether Theo was dead or not.

Driving to the college in this weather would be a disaster; he'd have more chance of winning the lottery than Roscoe pulling through every day. He really loved his jeep, but with cold temperatures like these he could acknowledge the merits of having a car which wouldn't sputter and die on him at the first sign of the temperatures dropping.

Fortunately he still had his online classes, so bar the grocery trips and the drive to Derek's or Scott's place, Roscoe didn't have to fight through the cold too often. During the other trips he just prayed she would hold out and patted her steering wheel whenever she managed to bring him to his destination without dying on him.

Positive reinforcement was important, even when it was a piece of machinery.

* * *

He was searching for his yellow highlighter, Derek looking on amused from his seat on the desk chair, when dad knocked on his door.

"Hey pops," Stiles muttered distracted, lifting up his handbooks and his notes in search of the elusive highlighter. Damn it, he had just used it before, it couldn't have disappeared that quickly!

"What are you doing?"

"Searching for my highlighter. The stupid thing disappeared – AHA!" Triumphantly he snatched it from beneath his pillow, where it had somehow ended up, and held it up in the air – before promptly throwing it at Derek when he slow clapped, a smirk on his face. "Shut the hell up."

"Stiles, there's something I need to tell you."

Dad's terse tone had him sobering up instantly and he look at him, frowning. From the corner of his eye, he saw Derek straightening up as well.

"Okay, what is it?" he asked apprehensively. He doubted it could be any sort of good news, not with the grave face his dad was sporting.

Dad rubbed over his eyes and sighed. "I just got off the phone with the Sheriff of Oakdale. They have the results back from Raeken's car."

"Just now? It's nearly February," Stiles remarked, but his heart started beating quicker and his hands grew a bit clammy.

Derek stood up and went to sit next to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and letting him lean against him in silent support.

"They were backed up for several weeks apparently," Dad said wearily and grimaced. "They examined both the finger and whatever DNA they could still retrieve from the burnt out car and compared that to the DNA they had on file of him."

"How come they had his DNA on file already?" Derek asked, tensing up slightly.

"Hospital records," Dad replied. "Apparently his father had contested his parentage and his mother let a hospital compare their DNA to prove he was indeed Raeken's father."

"And what did they discover? Was it – was it Theo?" Stiles asked, forcing the words out. His mouth felt uncomfortably dry and his heartbeat was loud in his ears. He found Derek's hand and gripped it tightly.

"The results confirmed that the victim in the car was Theo Raeken. He has been pronounced dead on the twenty-eight of January," Dad answered softly and went over to hug Stiles on his other side, when his breath escaped him in a loud 'whoosh'. "It's over now, son. He can't hurt you anymore."

Derek tightened his grip around Stiles' shoulders, pressing a harsh kiss against his temple before burying his face in Stiles' neck.

 _It was over._

Theo was gone. He was gone, leaving Stiles completely free. No longer would he need to look over his shoulders, worrying Theo had managed to sneak back into Beacon Hills somehow. No longer would he need to fear that Theo would be back to finish what he had started. After all these months, he could finally put that mess behind him once and for all.

It was over now. He was free.

 _Fuck._

* * *

"So now it's just figuring out whether I should finish the rest of my year with online classes or ditch the online ones for actual class attendance. I have to decide soon, though, because it'd be ridiculous to attend classes for just a couple of months," Stiles talked, playing with a dead leave he'd picked off from the ground. It was a strangely coloured one; not completely brown, but not red or green anymore either.

He was back at the Nemeton three days after being informed that Theo was dead. He still had some difficulties wrapping his mind around the fact. Theo was dead. Gone. Passed away when his car had erupted in flames.

It was such a strange thought to consider that he still didn't know how to feel about it. He felt relieved, of course, that he no longer needed to be on his guard, but it was a mixed feeling, knowing he was only this free again because Theo had kicked the bucket.

Well, he guessed it was still better than Theo still roaming around freely, plotting revenge, but …

It just felt weird. Despite Derek telling him about his own experience, he thought he shouldn't feel happy about someone else's death, even if that person had been a horrible psychopath.

"I mean, I can hardly wait until spring, because that would be pointless seeing as there would only be two to three months left then," he continued and gazed at the barren branches stretching out high above him to the sky.

The Nemeton had lost the last of its leaves around a month ago, the last of the trees in the Preserve. Even without its leafy roof, though, it looked quite intimidating; the empty branches standing out starkly against the overcast sky. If he hadn't become so used to visiting the Nemeton weekly, the sight of it would have made him think too much of horror stories to be at ease.

Discarding the dead leave on the floor, he got up and brushed the dirt off the back of his jeans. "Guess you can't wait until it's spring again, though, right? Means you'll be getting your leaves back then," he said and absently ran his hand down the nearest branch, rough bark scratching his palm.

When he pulled his hand back, he could only stare numbly as bright green leaves _sprang into existence._

* * *

 **AN2: From one mess to the next one *hums* Anyone wants to guess what's happening now?**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted fics, please visit my profile.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's note: Hey look, for once I'm actually updating on Friday! Miracles do exist! *coughs***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Safieri; Digidestined10; yukino76; babyvfan**

 **Warnings: eh, mostly angst and something you probably already expected LOL**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 27_

"You never told me I could make leaves grow!"

Deaton looked up from whatever book he'd been reading before Stiles had stormed into his office, bypassing Scott who'd been secretly texting Kira, and tilted his head slightly. "Pardon me?" he said mildly.

"The Nemeton! You never told me I could make leaves grow on those branches!" Stiles snapped, waving his phone around with the picture of the bright green leaves.

After he'd recovered from his shock – not completely but enough to function again – he'd taken a picture of the leaves before driving straight to the druid's office. He knew he'd bonded with the Nemeton, but nobody had told him he could actually make leaves grow! Was that shit even normal? Because it didn't seem normal to him!

"Close the door, please. I'd like to take a better look at the picture," Deaton said calmly and stood up, walking around his desk. He accepted the phone while Stiles closed the door, studying the picture intently. "Tell me what you were doing when this happened."

"Ehm." Stiles blinked, a bit taken aback. "I was just talking aloud to myself like I usually do, about classes and such, and then I stood up and I said that the Nemeton would probably like for spring to come soon, so that it would get its leaves back. Then I touched one of the branches and well, this happened." He waved helplessly at the phone. "Is this because I mentioned the whole spring thing? Or something else? Should I worry?"

"That depends entirely on how you look at it," Deaton said cryptically, which did jack shit to calm Stiles' nerves.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked nervously, stuffing the phone back into his pocket when Deaton handed it over.

"Have you touched the Nemeton before – since it lost its leaves, I mean," Deaton clarified.

"Er, not that I can think of …" Stiles answered hesitatingly, trying to remember whether he had. He was pretty sure he hadn't; at least not since it had become completely barren.

"Interesting," Deaton murmured; his eyes gaining a distant sheen as if he was somewhere else with his thoughts, somewhere far away.

"Interesting, why?" Stiles asked apprehensively, wringing his hands together.

"As you know, you've bonded with the Nemeton," Deaton started and he nodded impatiently. "This means that any big changes your body goes through, the Nemeton will reflect this. In the case of your mother, for example, when she passed away, the Nemeton followed in spirit until you woke it up again."

"And what big change would make it grow leaves again in the freaking winter?" He was sure nothing out of the ordinary had happened to him in the last couple of months. He studied his ass off; visited his friends and pestered his dad at work; went to Derek's place as often as he could where they might or might not spend quite some time in the bed as of late …

Bar that brief stomach flu he'd had, he hadn't been seriously ill; nothing that could bring about a change in him.

"Well, I can't say for certain, but I know of something that would cause the Nemeton to bloom earlier than it should be," Deaton said thoughtfully, leaning against his desk.

"All right, and that's?" Stiles stared at him expectantly.

"I suggest you take a test to see whether the … progress in your relationship with Mister Hale has brought something to fruition," Deaton replied and gave him a meaningful look.

The progress in his relationship with Derek? What the hell was he going on about now? What bullshit mystical answer about fruition would explain why the Nemeton …

 _Oh._

 _ **Oh.**_

Fuck.

* * *

He spent the rest of the drive to the store two towns over completely in denial land. Why wouldn't he be when it was clear there was no way Deaton was right? What he had suggested – that was beyond ridiculous, incredibly stupid even!

Of course it was stupid and impossible, because he was taking precautions and he never forgot those, so there was no way this was happening to him. It was simply impossible. All the same, though, he guessed it couldn't hurt to check, if only so he could go back to pester Deaton about what really was making the Nemeton come back to life.

Because it wasn't him. Couldn't be him.

Not with the pills he was taking, not when he was sure that this time nobody was messing with them. They couldn't be safer than they already were, so Deaton's implication was simply impossible.

Still he felt like he was going to be sick any moment now when he finally parked his car and hurried into the store. He'd chosen one two towns over to avoid anyone recognising him; the last thing he needed now was someone asking the sheriff why his son was buying tests. That was not a conversation he was ready to have yet – if ever.

He kept his gaze trained to the tiles, ignoring the other shoppers, and went straight to the correct aisle. There, he wavered in front of the shelves, wondering which one would give him the most accurate result. Why did they even have so many brands in the first place? The deal was simple: the test just had to display a positive or a negative result. So why the hell did they have to have so many different brands for something as easy as that? That was just meant to give people even more stress than they were already experiencing, he was sure!

He stood there for several long minutes, progressively feeling more and more idiotic – and like everyone was staring at him, though the rational part of his brain told him he was just imagining that, because why would anyone care what he was doing as long as he didn't start shoplifting? – before he grabbed two boxes of a brand promising 99% accuracy which was good enough for him.

He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for the old lady in front of him to finish paying – which naturally she had to do in cash and in small coins, because the universe wasn't merciful at all today.

When it was finally his turn, he just quirked a weak smile in response to the chirpy greeting of the cashier and watched her ring up the two boxes; his stomach turning into a leaden ball when he handed over the money.

"All right, you're all set. I hope you'll get the result you're hoping for!" she told him brightly, smiling friendly.

God, he didn't even know what he was hoping for. "Yeah, thanks," he smiled weakly and left the store, trying not to look like he'd just stolen something as he scurried back to his jeep.

The two thin boxes were thrown on the passenger seat without a glance before he started the jeep to drive home again. He'd cranked up the heating high, but even with the hot air blasting in his face, he still felt inexplicably cold. Maybe there was cold air sneaking into a crack? Probably through the window behind him; he knew he should have got that one fixed last summer.

He conveniently forgot that he'd never had issues with the heating before this winter – practically the only thing in the car that he hadn't had issues with, but that was neither here nor there.

Back at his house, he spent some time just staring at his steering wheel, focusing on his breathing to keep it slow and even, so he wouldn't sink deep into a panic attack. He hadn't had to use his breathing exercises in a while and that realisation only made him more sick; bile burning the back of his throat before he swallowed it back down.

Snatching the boxes from the seat, he pushed open the door and got out on unsteady legs. The short walk from the car to the front door seemed endless all of a sudden and he dropped his keys twice before he could finally push them into the lock.

Almost mechanically he got rid of his coat and his shoes, going upstairs after quickly checking his phone. Still two hours left before dad would come home from his shift.

It took him five tries before his brain finally absorbed the instructions on the box and then it was another five minutes before he could actually bring himself to open the boxes and use the tests. The timer on his phone was set for three minutes and then he just dropped down on the closed toilet seat, resolutely not checking the tests on the sink every five seconds like he wanted to.

His right leg started jiggling as he watched the numbers dwindle down slowly, dread lying heavy in the pit of his stomach. It was stupid to feel nervous; when he checked them, they would be negative after all, considering he took his pill every day on time. There was no way for the tests to be positive, because it was simply not possible.

That was what he kept telling himself up until the timer reached the end and alerted him that three minutes had passed by producing shrill beeps. He hurried to silence it, the shrill noise drilling into his skull, and shoved his phone in his pocket, standing up on weak legs. His bones seemed to have been replaced by rubber as he slowly shuffled the couple of steps towards the sink.

Feeling like he was going to throw up any second now – at least he was near a toilet this time – he picked up the sticks with trembling fingers and turned the screens towards the light so he could check them.

"One, two, three," he counted down and took a deep breath, finally checking the mini displays.

He stared at the two signs before snatching one of the boxes from where he'd dropped them in the sink, and hastily checked the back of it again, looking for the explanation of the signs. Sure, he'd read the instructions and the explanation of the signs before he'd used them, but just to be sure, be certain his eyes weren't playing tricks on him …

Blackness started creeping into the corners of his sight and dimly he was aware of how his breath was speeding up, becoming too loud and too quickly in the small bathroom, but he didn't care about that. Couldn't care about that when the results were staring rudely back at him, daring him not to believe them.

Somehow he managed to stumble into his bedroom without slamming into walls or tripping over his feet, which was a goddamn miracle with how unsteady and weak he felt right now. His ears were buzzing, his skin felt too tight and too hot at once, and he feared he was going to faint before he could sit down.

He didn't, though, managed to get onto his bed without crumpling through his legs, which was about the only thing he could be victorious about now. His phone was digging into his thigh and he struggled to get it out of his pocket, staring down at it once he finally had it. He needed … He didn't know what or who, but he just …. He couldn't be … Not now, not when his entire life had just been upended right in front of his eyes, just because of some damn fucking sticks, and he couldn't …

"You better be dying, Stilinski, because I'm up to my neck in assignments and none of my classmates are worth a damn," Lydia growled viciously.

Oh so he had dialled her then, that was … Well, he supposed somehow that would make sense? Although he hadn't even been aware that he'd been calling someone, so that was …

"Stiles?" Her ire disappeared in a flash, making place for worry. "Are you okay?"

"Lydia, I'm … I'm in deep shit," he choked out; a lump rapidly forming in his throat, making it harder to push the words out. He bit down hard on the side of his palm, like that would help but he needed something, something to distract him, and he tasted a hint of copper and rust when he broke through the skin.

"Tell me what's wrong," she ordered immediately.

"I'm pregnant."

Heavy silence on the other end of the call. In that silence it was like a dam suddenly broke down and the words poured out of him like a flood. "Knocked up, up the duff, bun in the oven, having a baby, I can't deal with this, this wasn't supposed to happen, but it is, and fuck, what's my dad going to say? What's Derek going to say? I'm fucked, so fucked, and it's not like this is my fault! I'm taking suppressants, why the hell aren't they working?! They're supposed to be doing their job, but obviously they aren't and now I'm in deep shit!" he yelled hysterically, pulling at his hair and barely registering the stinging pain accompanying that. "I'm so unbelievably fucked, Lydia, and I don't know what to do! What am I supposed to do now, this was never the plan! Not this soon, not this early, I can't, I really can't, I - "

"Stiles, don't faint on me now," Lydia cut him off sharply. "I'm booking the earliest flight back to you; I'll see you in five hours, try not to fall apart too much until I'm there."

Her order and the subsequent beeping noise signalling the call had been disconnected, shocked him into silence. He could only gape as he lowered his phone and stared at the screen, which dimmed after a short moment before turning completely black.

Not fall apart too much? A burst of hysterical laughter escaped him before he clamped his mouth shut, slamming a hand in front of it for good measure. Well, he could attempt not to completely lose his shit, he supposed.

Easier said than done.

* * *

"I'm sorry; you shouldn't have come all the way over here," Stiles apologised awkwardly.

Lydia didn't even spare him a glance as she sped past another car and just scoffed. "Stiles, sweetie, shut the hell up. Of course I should be here – who otherwise will make sure you don't drive yourself completely crazy? McCall?" She wrinkled her nose.

He wanted to come to his friend's defence, but well, to be honest, Scott wouldn't have managed to calm him down enough to get into a car and agree to a check-up with a private doctor. If anything he'd probably be panicking right along side Stiles' and while he appreciated the sympathy, that wouldn't help him.

Lydia's no-nonsense, don't bullshit with me attitude on the other hand was helping somewhat.

At least enough that he no longer felt like he was going to pass out any second now. He was still panicking – god knew that wouldn't stop any time soon – but he could at least function enough to answer her questions.

"And you haven't felt any nausea so far?" She tapped her nails against the steering wheel impatiently when they had to wait in front of a red light.

"No, nothing. I mean I had the stomach flu a little while ago, but that's not really the same as that whole morning sickness thing, right?" he replied nervously, rubbing the back of his left hand across his mouth.

"No, not exactly," she hummed and gunned it as soon as the light turned green. "And you're sure you didn't miss a single day of your prescription?"

"No. Ever since," he swallowed, "ever since Theo, I make sure to check my pills even if he is, you know, dead now. I didn't miss a single pill, I swear."

"I looked up the brand you're taking," she commented and of course she did; she was nothing if not thorough. "And it has one of the highest success rates of all suppressants. When taken like it should, there's zero possibility to end up pregnant."

"Yeah, that's why I was taking it, but apparently I'm the exception to the rule," he mumbled gloomily, looking out of the window. He turned his head surprised when she patted his hand gently.

"We'll figure out what happened," she promised. "For now, let's first find out just how far along you are and we'll go from there."

"Right," he said weakly.

One thing at a time.

* * *

Evening had already fallen by the time they left the doctor's practice. As they walked back to Lydia's car, the wind almost howling around them, Stiles tried to wrap his mind around what he'd seen in the doctor's office.

Lydia's private doctor was a female Beta around her mid forties. She had had the same no-nonsense bullshit as his friend, but had still been friendly throughout the entire examination, explaining step for step what she'd been doing and why. There had been no judgement in her gaze when he'd told her how old he was and why he was visiting her; he guessed in her profession she'd seen worse.

Her verdict when he'd been on the examination table, staring blankly at a fuzzy screen, had been unbidden, though: the tests were correct. He was pregnant, five weeks to be exact.

That meant that according to his calculations he'd ended up pregnant during the weekend he'd had sex for the first time. No wonder the Hale siblings had kept commenting about Derek's smell sticking to him.

That was his shitty luck apparently: he finally had sex with the guy he liked and then he ended up pregnant from the first time despite having taken all the precautions he could think of. Fuck his life seriously.

Hadn't it already been bad enough that he'd been targeted by a fucked up psycho before that bastard went and bit the dust? Now he had to deal with an unexpected baby as well?! What the hell had he done to the universe to deserve this nearly full year of bullshit?

"How did you actually know you had to take tests if you weren't feeling sick?" Lydia asked in a neutral voice when they sat in her car. "I've been wondering about that since you called me."

He breathed out slowly, resting his head back against the headrest. "I was visiting the Nemeton and when I touched one of the branches, it suddenly started sprouting leaves. I freaked out about that, went to Deaton, and he told me in his usual bullshit cryptic way that I might be better off taking some pregnancy tests."

"Ah."

Silence for a little while before she asked softly, "You have any idea yet what you're going to do now?"

"None whatsoever," he replied flatly. A part of him was still hoping he'd wake up any second now, proof that this was just one fucked up dream. No such luck of course.

"Well, you still have some time to think about it," she murmured uncharacteristically gentle, stroking a curl of her strawberry red hair back. Her eyes seemed to glow in the small overhead light.

He nodded. "Yeah …" He supposed his habit of ignoring things until they went away wouldn't quite work out in this case, though. Now he would actually have to confront it and decide what to do about it; he wasn't looking forward to that.

"I'll bring you back home, okay? Unless you want to go somewhere else?" she offered, starting the car.

"No, home's fine." Not like he had anywhere else to go. Well, he could probably go to … No, not tonight. Not when he was feeling this vulnerable, this hollowed out. He couldn't let the other one find about this, not yet anyway.

Not tonight.

* * *

Dad was home by the time Lydia dropped him off and he made up some vague excuse about having lost track of time when he'd been visiting the Nemeton. Dad was tired enough from pulling a long shift that he didn't question the late hour and they simply heated up some lasagne from the evening before as dinner.

He told his dad goodnight after finishing the dishes and practically fled upstairs to his room. The sticks he'd put in a small plastic bag, he hid in his wardrobe under a bunch of old clothes he never got around to throwing out. He'd get rid of the sticks when it was time to put the garbage outside to have it picked up; less chance of being caught by dad then. He knew he should tell the truth sooner rather than later, but he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet.

He'd tell him soon, just – not yet.

He went through the motions of getting ready for bed like a robot; mechanically brushing his teeth and washing his face before stripping off his clothes – studiously ignoring looking at himself in the mirror – and pulling on his pyjamas.

He went to bed a lot earlier than usual, simply because he didn't know what else to do now, but instead of lying awake for hours, the stress and exhaustion of the day caught up to him and he fell asleep before the clock even hit midnight.

* * *

Deaton was surprisingly more forthcoming with answers when he cornered the druid the next day.

"I suspect your lineage as an Elemental Creature might have something to do with your recent development," he mused aloud, tapping his fingers slowly on the examination table. His patient, a cat still in its cage, was watching his gloved hands with wary eyes and a threatening low growl.

"What does that mean?" Stiles asked blankly, hugging himself. The stench of disinfectant hanging in the air was tickling his nose, making him close to sneezing.

"Well, I cannot say for sure, of course," Deaton said mildly, setting out a needle and a small vial with some clear liquid, "seeing as there are far too few Elemental Creatures for any studies to have been conducted, but I suspect that your Elemental heritage had some sort of influence on your suppressants. It is perhaps possible that it weakened the effect of them."

"But I didn't have this problem before. Otherwise Theo would have - " he cut himself off before he finished his sentence, not ready yet to rankle up that particular part of the shitfest his life had been the past year.

"While it is true you have been an Elemental Creature from birth, it didn't become active until you bonded with the Nemeton," Deaton said contemplatively. "I'd say before you found the Nemeton in your search for safety, your Elemental heritage was dormant to the point you were considered a fox like other shifters of your kind. When you sought out the Nemeton for help, however, and bonded with it, it made your Elemental side surge up and take over. Having that side awakened might have interfered with the suppressants you started taking afterwards."

He side-eyed him when Stiles remained silent. "However, this is all pure speculation on my part. I could be entirely off the mark and you might have just the misfortune of having an accident with the suppressants. I cannot confirm either way."

"Right, of course, thanks anyway," Stiles muttered distracted and turned around to leave.

"I'd be careful of who I'd bring around the Nemeton now if I were you, Mister Stilinski, for how long you choose to remain quiet about this," Deaton said mildly. "I imagine the branches suddenly sprouting to life due to your presence would be difficult to explain otherwise."

"Right." He nodded mindlessly and left Deaton to his vet duties, driving straight home again. When he got there and checked his phone, he had received two messages.

Lydia: ' _I'm here whenever you want to talk'_

Man, he must have looked really pathetic yesterday for her to actually sent this text. He shot a quick _'Thanks, I will'_ back and then checked the next one, which was from Derek.

' _Do you want to spend the evening together?'_

Gnawing on his lip, his stomach squirming uncomfortably, he replied, _'No, sorry, too much homework'_

He might not be able to ignore this whole situation this time, but nobody said he couldn't procrastinate for as long as possible.

* * *

 **AN2: I guess it was pretty obvious what was happening with how the previous chapter ended, but now you know for sure: the MPreg part is finally starting! It's starting in all its glorious angst! *claps hands* And yes, Stiles is definitely going to regret his habit of procrastinating in the next chapter.**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's note: Yes, I'm actually on time with this chapter, imagine that! That said I have an important notice for you all.**

 **IMPORTANT: Starting next week I'll be back at university and I'm not sure yet how much I'll be able to write every week. I will try my best to keep the bi weekly updates going, but if an update is later than usual, just know it's because I'm swamped with studying and not because this story was discontinued. This story will get finished, I promise, it just might come with some delays, for which I apologise in advance.**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Safieri; ShadowXMoonlight; yukino76; Almondweb; babyvfan; Digidestined10; PleiadesWolfe**

 **Warnings: Hm, mostly angst I guess; a minor time skip**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 28_

It was surreal knowing that he actually had another human being currently growing inside of him. He knew he wouldn't see any physical changes until another couple of months had passed, yet after a few days he found himself checking himself out in the mirror every evening, paranoidly wondering whether anyone could see he was carrying a secret with him.

Of course they couldn't. He wasn't even two months pregnant yet. The knowledge, however, was like a heavy weight in his stomach, an insistent thought in the back of his mind whenever he talked to his dad or texted Derek.

He knew he should let them know soon, especially Derek, because this definitely concerned him, but … He couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to actually open his mouth and confess the truth, reveal that he was expecting a child.

Because if he did, if he opened his mouth and told them, he would have to decide. He would be forced to actually really acknowledge the situation he was in and he would be pushed to make a decision.

To choose whether he wanted to keep it or not. Whether he would give it up for adoption or whether he would remove it completely, snuff out its existence before it had the chance to properly grow into something more.

He couldn't make that decision, that damning choice, because he was utterly terrified. Scared out of his mind of what was happening to him, of what was expected of him now. Too anxious to think about it, worrying he would make the wrong choice.

Because what would happen if he let it be removed? If he went through an abortion? He could do that secretly. He was still at the point when it was possible. He could drive to a clinic a couple of towns away, get himself admitted for a day and boom, foetus gone. Neither his dad nor his friends would ever need to know. Well, Lydia would know, considering she would want to know what had happened after they had parted ways, but she wouldn't judge. She was just as practical as him after all.

Because let's face it: he was just on the cusp of turning nineteen – an age many considered too young nowadays to become a parent. They weren't living in the Middle Ages anymore after all. No need to start on children young. He was still studying, working to his degree. He'd only just started recovering from the horror Theo had put him through – would anyone blame him if he decided to get an abortion? Not that anyone would have to know if he didn't want to tell.

What if he did get one, though? How would he feel afterwards? Would he be relieved? Or disappointed? Or worse: would he come to regret his decision for the rest of his life? He only had one chance in this after all; this wasn't like a test he could retake, an assignment he could rewrite if it didn't end up being like he had envisioned. If the baby was gone, that was it. No way to redo it, no going back to start. If he chose this, it was final.

On the other end of the spectrum: what would happen if he decided to keep the baby after all? How would his dad react? Would he be disappointed that his only son ended up knocked up at such a young age? Would he be furious and kick him out? And Derek – what about Derek? How would he react if he told him the news? Would he be happy? Would he want to keep it? Or would he hate the thought of it, loathe the idea of being shackled to Stiles for the rest of his life through a baby he'd never wanted in the first place?

How would his other friends react? Drop him like hot coals? Consider him an idiot for wanting to go through with this when he was still studying?

More than that, though, more than the reactions of his family and friends – he was afraid. Scared that he wouldn't be able to handle it. Could he take care of a baby? Love him or her unconditionally, take care of them for the rest of their life? Was he ready to take on the huge responsibility that was the rearing of a child?

He didn't know and that scared him.

And so he did what he'd always done best: he ignored the problem for as long as possible.

Which turned out to be not that long.

* * *

When his dad asked him whether he'd made a decision regarding his classes yet, he told him he might as well finish the rest of his year with online classes, seeing as it was already February. No real point in attending the classes when there were only a couple of months left after all.

His dad agreed and left it at that.

When Lydia sent him a list of food he could eat which would be beneficial and healthy for both him and the baby, he thanked her and made sure to incorporate them in dinners often without making his dad suspicious about it. It was a good thing he'd always been nagging the Sheriff about eating healthy; the extra vegetables and fruits present in the household all of a sudden just made the older man sigh wearily and wrinkle his nose at them instead of growing suspicious. It was just Stiles going on another health binge, that was all. Nothing else. It couldn't be anything else after all.

When the time came to refill his prescription for his suppressants, he went to pick it up and then promptly chucked the bottle in the back of one of his desk drawers. Not much sense in taking them when he was pregnant after all. Even if he was still undecided about the baby's fate, it didn't seem like a good idea to keep taking the suppressants. Who knew what kind of impact that could have.

When his friends invited him for an afternoon of fun, he made sure the fun occurred in places where any possible changes in his scent or demeanour could be masked with the surroundings. He had no idea whether they would be able to smell something was different about him, but he wasn't about to take any chances with it either.

Better safe than sorry after all.

When Derek texted him, asking to come over to his apartment during the evenings, he either sent excuses in the form of his homework taking up a lot of time or he left earlier than usual, using early morning classes – even online ones! – as an explanation as to why he couldn't stay the night.

Maybe he was being paranoid. He still wasn't showing, so there was no way Derek would be able to tell he was expecting his child, but … He couldn't stop himself from flinging excuse after excuse, yet still making sure they spent enough time together so the older man wouldn't grow suspicious or hurt. It was a delicate balance, a fine line which was becoming progressively more difficult to tread.

He knew he should just confess to it, especially as he was slowly approaching the deadline before it became permanent, but … He couldn't. Not yet.

It was a mantra he told himself every day now. Not yet. Soon, but not now. The timing wasn't right, Derek looked a bit too stressed out with his work, he had this assignment to finish first, that chapter to read …

Excuse after excuse and with each one, he felt more and more guilty yet he still didn't feel brave enough to confess.

* * *

A knock on his window near the end of February had him yelping in fright, having become too absorbed into a wiki article about Atlantis to pay any attention to his surroundings. Looking up, his heart quickening, he was taken aback by the sight of Derek crouching in front of his window.

What the hell?

He hurried to the window and shoved it open, shivering when he was immediately hit by the cold wind. "What are you doing here?" he questioned, accepting the quick kiss before Derek climbed into his bedroom gracefully. He slammed the window shut to keep the cold out and pointed a finger to the floor. "You do realise we've got a door, right? You know that thing people use when they want to enter a place?"

Derek lifted his eyebrows unimpressed. "I do, yes, and I also know how to ring a doorbell – someone else here apparently doesn't know how to open the door, though, so I figured I'd get your attention in another way."

Stiles blinked. "You rang the doorbell?" he asked blankly. "I didn't hear anything."

"Obviously," Derek snorted and pulled off his leather jacket, chucking it down on the desk chair. "I rang it three times and then realised you were probably too occupied with whatever you were doing to hear the bell, so I climbed up to the window."

"Because that's the normal thing to do if someone doesn't answer the door," Stiles deadpanned.

"You didn't answer your phone either, I was getting worried," Derek defended himself, scowling slightly.

"Oh shit, really?" Shoving some papers out of the way, he plucked his phone from the desk and winced when he saw the five unread messages and three missed phone calls. Damn, he must have forgotten to put the sound back on after he'd gone to the cinema yesterday with Scott and Kira.

"Sorry, I'd forgotten to put the sound back on," he said sheepishly and quickly changed it. "Is there something wrong, though? For you to show up now, I mean." Had something happened to one of the Hales? Maybe to Laura or Cora? Or Erica or Boyd?

Before his worry could really grow, Derek squashed it by shaking his head and pulling him into his arms, nuzzling his cheek. "No, nothing's wrong. I just missed you and wanted to spend time with you. I thought it might be easier if I spend the night here, so you can go back to studying in the morning. If you don't mind?" He pulled back and looked at him questioningly; a hint of uncertainty lurking in the depths of his multicoloured eyes.

"Who says I'm not incredibly busy with studying now?" Stiles remarked innocently, but the corners of his mouth twitched with a barely supressed smile.

Raising one eyebrow, Derek looked at his screen and commented dryly, "Unless your homework has something to do with the history of Atlantis, I'd say you're not incredibly busy now. Besides, everyone knows it's healthier to take a break than to continuously study."

Stiles hummed and rested his arms on Derek's shoulders, playing with the soft tufts of hair. "That's true. Taking a break is very important," he agreed and smirked. "Although is it not my job to be the irresponsible one and distract my hardworking, older lover?"

"Changing roles every once in a while never hurt anyone," Derek muttered and caught his mouth in a deep kiss, pulling him along to the bed, which was for once free of any study books and his laptop.

"Or do you have some objections?" Derek murmured, sitting down on the bed and tugging the Omega on his lap.

"No objections whatsoever here, no sir," Stiles immediately retorted and kissed him eagerly; the nerves in his lips tingling when a tongue swept over them before parting them.

He hadn't realised how much he'd missed this, missed just being with Derek and kissing him; feeling those warm, strong arms resting around him. He'd been so paranoid lately that he hadn't really taken the time to enjoy just being with Derek.

What was there even to be paranoid about? It wasn't like he was showing already, his stomach still as flat as ever, so there was no harm in forgetting his worries for one evening and just focus on Derek. On him and those sinful lips brushing down his chin to his neck; hands slipped underneath his sweater and resting like hot brands against his sides.

Tilting his head to the side to give the other man more space, he released a shuddering breath when teeth touched his neck, lightly baring down before they were replaced by searing hot lips. The thought of being marked by his mate sent shivers down his spine and he pressed himself closer against Derek, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Did I hurt you last time?" Derek suddenly asked, his voice low but tinged with a note of worry.

"Hurt? What? No, why?" Stiles asked confused, blinking rapidly. "Hey, how long can you stay? The whole night?" He rolled his hips suggestively against the wolf's, heat pooling into his lower belly.

"Your heart – it's beating quicker than I'm used to. Thought you were nervous or so," Derek replied, furrowing his eyebrows lightly.

Stiles was quick to smooth away his frown. "No, not nervous. Not at all even. Do I smell nervous?"

"No, but …" Derek cocked his head, carrying a look of concentration. "Your dad – is he home?"

Taken off guard by the odd question, Stiles blinked. "What? No, he got called away for some kind of traffic incident or so. Why?"

"I hear a third heartbeat," Derek replied absently, twisting his head from one direction to the other.

Clucking his tongue, Stiles made use of his distraction by pushing him down on the bed, settling on top of him. "Maybe you're hearing a neighbour or so," he suggested, placing his hands on Derek's shoulders. "So, staying the night?"

"It's not a neighbour," the Beta insisted, looking confused. "I hear mine," he pointed to his chest, "Yours," he tapped Stiles', "and the third one is really close. Almost like it's coming from - "

He stopped talking abruptly and suddenly sat up, causing Stiles to nearly topple off him and off the bed. A strong grip around his waist stopped him from tumbling onto the ground and he scowled, smacking Derek's arm.

"What's your problem?"

But Derek wasn't listening. He wasn't even looking at him, instead staring puzzled at Stiles' stomach. Out of the blue he placed his hand against it, covering the middle. "The third heartbeat is coming from here. Stiles, you're - "

Before he could stop himself, before he could think twice about the consequences, Stiles blurted out shocked, "You can hear the baby's heartbeat already?"

Derek stilled and Stiles closed his eyes, muttering a soft, "Fuck."

This was _not_ how he'd envisioned informing the other man that he was pregnant. Not that he'd really been envisioning it as much as trying to avoid thinking about it, but if he had, this was definitely not the way he would have chosen. God, he was stupid. So stupid.

"You know you're pregnant?" Derek's voice was flat, devoid of even the slightest hint of emotion and shit, that didn't put the Omega at ease.

"Yeah, I know," he admitted with a sigh, because well, what was the point? He could hardly deny it now after what he'd just blurted out.

His stomach doing several uncomfortable flips, he got off Derek's lap and the man let him; the playful atmosphere of just now completely swallowed up by a loaded silence.

"You know how long?" Still without a single infliction in his voice and now he wasn't even looking at Stiles anymore, great. Just great.

"Around eight weeks now," he answered, stuffing his hands underneath his thighs nervously. He stared down at his sock clad feet, not daring to look up. Not courageous enough to look at Derek and be confronted by the look on his face.

"When did you do the test?"

"Three weeks ago." He could do this, giving answers. Stating facts was simple; it was what would come after this that would be the hard part.

He swallowed.

"How come … What made you take the test?"

Stiles licked his lips. "I was visiting the Nemeton and when I touched one of the branches, it – leaves grew on it. I freaked out and – went to Deaton and he told me in his roundabout way that I'd be better off taking a test."

"Deaton knows you're pregnant."

If possible, Derek's voice became even flatter and the younger man winced. "Y-yeah, he does."

"Does anyone else know? Does your dad know?" Derek stood up, taking a couple of steps away from the bed.

Even though there was less than two feet separating them, the distance felt a lot longer. Unable to sit any longer, Stiles stood up as well, but didn't dare to come closer, unsure of how the other man would react now.

"You think my dad wouldn't have visited you by now if he knew?" he asked in a forced light tone, hoping to break the tense atmosphere between them, but no dice.

Derek stared at him, a heavy frown cleaving his forehead in two, and a storm brewing in his eyes. Crossing his arms, he repeated tersely, "Does anyone else know, Stiles?"

He wouldn't be happy, Stiles knew. Not when it came to this. "Lydia knows," he admitted haltingly and bit down on his lip when Derek's face closed off. "It's not – I was panicking when I found out and she was – I just called someone and it ended up being her," he explained helplessly. "I didn't mean to – I just didn't know what to do, okay?"

"So you called her instead of me," Derek stated and dragged a hand over his face, turning away from Stiles. "So you've known for three weeks now that you're – pregnant. Is that why you suddenly got a lot busier? Didn't want me to find out?"

"That's not … Look, I know I should have come clean about this sooner, but Derek, what did you expect me to do?" Stiles burst out frustrated, throwing his hands up. "I was panicking, okay? Because I shouldn't be able to get knocked up now but apparently my Elemental side doesn't give a shit about that! So forgive me for panicking and not telling you immediately!"

"You've known about this for three weeks, Stiles!" Derek snapped. "You had three weeks the time to tell me and you didn't! When exactly were you planning on telling me? When you ran out of excuses to avoid spending time with me? When you couldn't hide it any longer?"

"Maybe when I had a fucking clue as to what I wanted to do!" Stiles shouted back. "You think this is easy for me? You think I haven't been trying to come up with a way to tell you? That's damn hard to do when I don't even know what I want to do with it, you know!"

The sudden silence that fell was punctuated by his harsh breathing and he cursed underneath his breath, turning his back to the other man. This was not how he'd thought this particular conversation would go, fuck. His hands trembled when he rubbed them roughly over his face, trying to calm down. He felt queasy, like he was going to throw up any minute now, and didn't know whether that was from anger or just morning sickness – evening sickness, whatever – rearing its ugly head for the first time. Who knew? Not him, clearly. Just like he didn't know what to do about the baby, like he didn't know what to say to Derek now that the secret was out.

He didn't know anything, it seemed like, and it made him feel pathetic.

"You haven't decided yet?" Derek asked softly; no trace left of his previous ire. "About the baby?"

Tired, Stiles dropped down on the bed, resting his head in his hands. "How could I have? I should, shouldn't I? I've known about it for three weeks and I still don't know what to do. Meanwhile the clock keeps ticking and ticking." He laughed bitterly.

Having more than a month to decide had seemed like such a long time back at the doctor's office, but it definitely wasn't – not when it came to this at least. With this, time was his enemy and it was definitely winning the battle, if not the war even.

"Nobody expects you to know what to do in three weeks, not when it comes to something as important as this," Derek murmured and there was a slight pause before he slowly came nearer.

"Maybe not, but it's not like I can take my time with it either. Not really," Stiles muttered, wrapping his arms around his waist. Sure, he still had a couple of weeks and this definitely wasn't a decision that could be rushed, but could he really take his time with it? Not exactly, given the deadline.

The hairs in the back of his neck rose up when he registered Derek's presence right behind him and he leant back before he realised what he was doing. Right when his back came into contact with the wolf's chest, arms wrapped around him and a nose nuzzled the left side of his neck.

"Sorry for getting angry just now. I shouldn't have reacted like that."

The fox shifter shook his head wearily. "No, Derek, it's okay. You were right: I was trying to avoid spending time with you and I shouldn't have done that. I should have just been honest from the start, but the thought of telling you – it scared the shit out of me."

"Why?" Derek started rubbing over his arms, his warmth seeping through the cotton layer of Stiles' sweater.

Stiles gnawed at his lower lip and admitted, "Because I wouldn't know what to answer if you asked me whether I'm keeping it or not."

Derek stilled; his hands wrapped loosely around Stiles' wrists. "You know it's entirely up to you, right? You're the one who decides what we're going to do. I'll support you no matter what," he reassured him; his voice low and soothing.

That was definitely nice to hear, but … "So … if I choose to remove it, you wouldn't mind?" he asked slowly, haltingly. He held his breath, all too aware of the tension seeping into the man behind him.

"You don't want to keep it?" Derek questioned in return, but his voice was neutral, not giving away what he really thought about that.

"I don't know, Derek. I really don't. What if I do, though?" This conversation was probably better held face to face, just so he could gauge Derek's emotions by looking into his eyes, but he wasn't ready yet to turn around. It was safer, easier, to speak like this. Easier to pose the question which had been on his mind ever since those sticks had coloured positive.

"I wouldn't mind," Derek replied eventually.

His heart told a completely different story.

This time Stiles did turn around, feeling a bit exasperated, and he poked Derek's chest; the man flinching a tad in surprise. "You know, I might not be as focused on heartbeats as you are, but I do know when you're lying to me and that blip just now, dude, was definitely the blip of a liar. _You would mind_."

"I wouldn't …" Derek sighed, a tad frustrated, and his lips thinned, but he still kept his arms around Stiles, his hands resting on the small of his back now. "Look, I definitely wouldn't mind keeping the baby, but that decision, that choice, is entirely up to you and I'm okay with whatever you decide, Stiles. Even if you choose to get rid of the baby, I'd still support you."

No blip this time. He was being completely truthful. Still …

Keeping his eyes averted to Derek's shirt, Stiles asked tentatively, "So – so you wouldn't hate me? No matter what I decide?"

The soft kiss Derek bestowed on his lips had hot tears stinging the back of his eyeballs and he squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath when his mate pulled away slightly.

"No matter what, I won't ever hate you." The words were whispered, but full of sincerity, and those warm arms reeled him in for a hug, hands steady on his back; Derek's scent surrounding him like a cloak.

This was good: knowing that no matter what, his decision wouldn't drive Derek away from him, wouldn't make the older man hate his guts. That he would be there with him, whether he chose to keep it or not. It put him slightly at ease, settled his worries a bit. Derek wouldn't hate him, no matter what.

The question remained, though: would he end up hating himself once he made his decision?

* * *

 **AN2: Man, their conversation really wasn't easy to write *sweatdrops* I hope I didn't screw it up!**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's note: Guess who's a night person and doesn't deal well with early morning classes? This author! I'm quite tired, but I figured I would try to finish this chapter anyway. I'm sorry if it's not up to par, but it's at least longer than I thought it would be, so you know, there's that *clears throat***

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Digidestined10; Almondweb; babyvfan; yukino76**

 **Warnings: Mention of abortion; some angst; some fluff; some very minor time skips**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like this chapter!**

* * *

 _Chapter 29_

"How would we even manage it?"

For a moment Derek didn't move and he thought the other man hadn't heard him. He was about to repeat his question when Derek looked up, pulling his attention away from his laptop.

"Manage what?"

"You know, the baby." Stiles waved haphazardly at his stomach before gesturing at Derek's apartment as a whole. "Where would he or she stay the most? At my house or your apartment? How would we do it at night? Babies need to eat at night, right? Pretty sure they do, so how would we do it? If he or she stays at my place, does that mean you'll have to stay over every time if you want to help out? And if the baby stays here, that means I'd have to be here basically full time too, right? Is there even enough room for the baby here? At my place, I guess I could clean out the spare bedroom. Do you think dad still kept the crib they used for me? I should ask him, right? But I'd first have to tell him I'm pregnant then. Shit."

He cut himself off abruptly, all too aware that he was rambling and cleared his throat, staring down at the chapter he'd been reading before his mind had started wandering.

It had been two days since Derek knew about the baby and after that conversation they hadn't talked about it anymore, spending the rest of the evening wrapped up around each other in Stiles' bed. He was pretty sure dad knew Derek had slept over, even if the wolf had sneaked out early in the morning, but the Sheriff hadn't said anything about it when Stiles had come down for breakfast yesterday.

Today, Sunday afternoon, found him at Derek's apartment, studying while the older man worked on a translation project due within two weeks. He didn't even know why he'd suddenly started talking about the baby again. He'd been reading his chapter like a diligent student and then somehow his brain had made a leap to where on earth the baby would stay if he chose to keep it.

Really, though, where would the baby stay? They didn't live together, so one of their homes would be the main 'base camp' to raise the baby. They could hardly change between the two places every day after all. It made sense for the baby to stay at Stiles' house, considering the empty guest room which could be converted to a nursery, but a baby meant long, sleepless nights and his dad already had to go through those once when Stiles had still been a baby – he'd feel guilty as hell if his baby kept his dad up all night.

Dad couldn't afford to be sleep deprived in his line of work and it wasn't fair to sic a baby on him just because Stiles' genetic makeup had decided to flip its middle finger to his suppressants.

Keeping dad and his need for sleep in mind, the logical solution was for the baby to stay at Derek's apartment – but wouldn't that mean Stiles had to spend most of his time here as well? Not that that would be a hardship per se – far from it – but what about his dad then? Who would mind his diet then if Stiles spent most of his time here? Who would the old man talk to when Stiles would be busy with his kid here instead of being at home?

Man, he'd thought making a decision about whether or not to keep the baby would be hard – thinking of the possible consequences if he kept the child made everything twice as complicated. Why had nobody told him before how complicated having a baby was?

He twitched when Derek abandoned his laptop at the table and came over the couch, sitting down next to him. He looked a bit … nervous for some reason; his eyes downcast, fixated on his jeans, even as he reached out to grab Stiles' hand.

"I'd planned to ask you this when you'd finished your exams," he started slowly, wrapping his fingers around Stiles'. "Figured it would make things easier with how much free time you'd have during the summer - "

"Assuming I'd pass all my exams immediately," Stiles couldn't help but point out and he quirked a quick grin when Derek rolled his eyes.

"I have faith in your abilities to pass them immediately," Derek said dryly, before he sobered up again, growing more solemn once more. "I wanted to ask – if you wanted to move in here. With me." The scruff of his beard couldn't hide how pink his cheeks became.

"Move in with you," Stiles repeated blankly; his brain currently unable to compute what was happening. "As in – living with you together. Here. Officially. Like all the time."

"Yes, that's generally what moving in with someone means," Derek deadpanned, but his eyes couldn't hide how nervous he was.

"You realise you'd be stuck with me the entire time. Like now you can still kick me out – well, I suppose you could still kick me out even if we live together," Stiles backtracked, thinking of the fact that the apartment was in Derek's name, so if he wanted to kick him out, he could without any issue. "But do you think that you can handle me twenty-four seven? Because now you still get breaks, but dude, I even still drive my dad insane and that man has been living with me for nearly nineteen years now. He probably should get a medal for that, come to think of it."

His rambling was cut off by a soft kiss and he couldn't help but gape at the wolf shifter when he pulled back; a fond smile making his eyes shine.

"Yes, Stiles, I think I can handle you twenty-four seven. I'd love nothing more than that."

"Famous last words, dude," Stiles retorted, but shuffled closer nonetheless, feeling rather giddy. "You mean it? You really want me to move in with you? Even if you know …" He waved at his stomach, a tad nervous now.

Would Derek still want to live with him even if he decided not to keep the baby in the end? After all, he was only asking him now instead of right before the summer break, because Stiles had made that remark about the baby. If he didn't keep it in the end, would that make things too awkward between them? It'd be one thing if they still had their own place, where they could retreat to if they couldn't handle being around each other anymore; it'd be a whole other thing if they couldn't avoid each other because they lived together.

"Your decision about the baby won't affect our living arrangements," Derek reassured him, curling an arm around his waist to pull him closer still. "I want to live together with you with or without the baby."

There was nothing but sincerity running through his voice, but the position of his hand on Stiles' abdomen didn't escape the Omega's notice and he stifled a sigh. Sure, the decision about the baby was left entirely up to him, but it was more than clear what Derek wanted to do with it – him or her, whatever.

The problem was that _he_ still didn't know what to do. Time was ticking away steadily and the moment neared that he would need to make a decision once and for all.

He just didn't know what to do.

* * *

He decided to try his to go to method for issues like this one: writing down the pros and contras. Perhaps seeing it on paper would make deciding a lot easier – he hoped.

Pros ….

He frowned, staring at the paper while he tapped his pen on the desk. _Pros … Pros …_ Hm, it felt weird to write pros for keeping a child. Changing to contra for now; maybe that would make it easier to switch to the pro side after that.

Contra. His dad would be incredibly disappointed most likely. He winced when he scribbled that on the paper. As soon as Stiles had hit puberty, dad had sat him down for The Talk, making sure he understood just how important it was to protect himself – both against diseases and against pregnancy. Dad wasn't one of those parents who loved to pretend their children would never go past the whole hand holding stage, but he'd been more than clear about the fact that he wasn't expecting to become a grandfather soon.

Not that this pregnancy was really Stiles' fault – he'd been as careful as one could be, but it was hardly his fault that his genetics had decided to screw him over! Would dad see it that way, though?

He was far from an unreasonable man – god knew Stiles had tested him a lot on quite some occasions these past couple of years with some of his stunts – but again he wasn't expecting to become a grandfather any time soon.

That tied in to another contra point: his age. He was just about to turn nineteen; he was barely an adult – some might even claim he was far from being one – how the hell was he supposed to handle a kid? How was he going to combine his studying with a baby? He could multitask, sure, but a baby seemed like a level above of what he was used to with his regular multitasking. Would he be able to handle it? Would he be able to raise a kid without screwing it up?

He grimaced, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. Bracing his foot against the desk, he pushed himself away from it, letting the chair roll backwards until it slowed down to a stop in the middle of his room.

What was he even going to do with a kid? The idea of someone sharing his genes, of a little thing being entirely dependable on him … That thought was both mindboggling and terrifying at the same time. He could still hardly believe he was expecting a baby, even though the proof had been staring right at him both in the form of the tests and the screen at the doctor's office.

Who was he even kidding? There was no way him raising a kid would end well. That was just asking for a disaster! He was hardly dad material, not like Scott was for example.

He paused, thinking about his best friend. The other man still didn't know he was pregnant and the knowledge that he was keeping this a secret from him made him feel guilty. He and Scott had always shared everything, having sworn each other that there would never be any secrets between them.

A kid seemed like a pretty damn big secret.

He thought about taking his phone and calling Scott, asking him to come over, but … He hesitated, leaning back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. For all that Scott was his best friend, he didn't think he would understand Stiles' hesitation. If he'd been in Stiles' shoes, he'd probably already have decided to keep the baby, no questions asked, because Scott was crazy about kids and was probably counting down the days he could start a family of his own with Kira. Scott had always been great with kids while Stiles … Not so much. Not that kids hated him, but he was awkward around them, never knowing what to do, what to say.

Scott always knew, though. Scott would be an amazing father one day. Stiles on the other hand …

He felt like everyone would make a great parent except for him and that was an awful thing to say, when his dad was a very good example of how to be a good parent. If his dad could do it, even after losing the love of his life, then surely Stiles could do it too? He'd have Derek with him and if there was one guy made to be a father, it was Derek, he was sure. Derek would be an amazing dad, no doubt about that.

He, though … He was not so sure about himself. What did it even say about him, that he couldn't make this decision at once?

Nothing really good, he feared.

He stared at the ceiling for a while longer before he stood up, stuffing his wallet and his phone in the pockets of his hoodie. He had a place to visit.

* * *

Google had guided him to the nearest centre, which turned out to be a couple of towns away. It took him a bit to get there and when he was parked finally, all he could do was stare at the building right across from the parking lot. As he watched, he saw two girls enter the centre of Planned Parenthood, both appearing a bit nervous, but not particularly upset.

He could have driven back to the doctor Lydia had recommended, but he hadn't. This centre felt a lot more anonymous than the doctor's office did and it was probably a lot cheaper than Lydia's doctor as well.

Slumping back into his seat, he rubbed his hands over his face. "What am I doing here?" he asked himself tiredly.

 _Looking for the push to make the decision_ , a voice whispered in the back of his mind and he pulled a face.

He gazed at the building again, at the weak daylight being reflected off the large window, and tried to imagine walking inside, asking for … Yeah, for what? He was here now, but the revelation he'd been hoping for, still eluded him. Had he really thought he would immediately know what to do if he came here?

"Stupid," he muttered sourly, scowling at the building.

If he couldn't even make a decision on his own, why would visiting this place help? All it did was drive home the fact that he still wasn't capable of making a decision. God, this sucked so much. Why couldn't he just decide and be done with it? Keeping it or not – why was it that difficult?

He thought about grabbing his phone and calling Lydia or Derek. Considered calling his dad or Scott, confess to the shit he'd landed in now. He couldn't bring himself to get his phone out, though. There was no point in calling any of his friends about this or even his dad. This was something he had to do on his own, no matter how much he hated the thought of doing that. It'd be so much easier if someone else could decide in his place.

It started drizzling when he slowly exited his car. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and, keeping his head down, he briskly made his way over to the centre, resolutely not looking up until he stepped inside; pleasant warmth hitting him.

A sweet looking, older woman looked up from the desk nearest to the door and she offered him a kind smile. "Good afternoon, can I help you with something?"

He took a deep breath and approached her on unsteady legs. "Yeah, ehm, could you tell me how you'd go about – having an abortion?"

Her face softened and she pointed at the chair in front of her desk.

* * *

"I was thinking that we could all go out for lunch or dinner tomorrow, now that Kira will be coming over for a visit," Scott suggested enthusiastically; his happiness at being able to see his girlfriend soon practically spilling over through the phone.

"All?" Stiles repeated and snorted, kicking his door shut before wandering over to the front door. "And who's 'all' exactly? Lydia still has classes and she won't becoming home until the break."

"Oh true, I hadn't thought of that," Scott said and paused before asking, "What about Erica and Boyd? And Derek of course. Maybe Isaac if he wants to come?"

"You're going to make him the seventh wheel?" Stiles smirked, unlocking the front door and getting inside. "Not that it'd matter to me – at least this time I won't be playing the extra wheel."

He paused in getting his shoes off when he caught a heartbeat upstairs. His dad had started his shift half an hour ago, but a quick sniff informed him Derek was here, which was huh. He hadn't known the older man would be dropping by today; he must have been let inside by dad when the Sheriff left for his work.

"Maybe Derek could invite one of his sisters?" Scott offered uncertainly. "Cora, maybe – they know each other well, so it won't be awkward."

"It will get awkward if Cora doesn't want to," Stiles replied, wrinkling his nose. She and her brother had the resting bitch face down to a T.

"Well, we'll figure it out tomorrow. I'll give Erica and Boyd a call, can you ask Cora?" Scott asked cheerfully and continued without awaiting Stiles' reply, "All right, cool, I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Yeah, sure, give me the difficult one," Stiles muttered when the line went dead and he spent a bit of time scowling at his phone before stuffing it in his pocket.

He'd deal with asking Cora later; first he was going to ask Derek whether he was visiting for a particular reason or just because. He definitely wouldn't mind an impromptu visit, but if he'd known, he'd have stayed home instead of going out for a snack run.

"Hey Derek, didn't know you were stopping by," he called out, smiling, but his smile froze when he took in where Derek stood – and more importantly, what he was looking at exactly.

Derek didn't even turn around from the desk; the fingertips of his right hand resting lightly on the pamphlets he'd received from the woman of Planned Parenthood.

"Your dad let me in when he left for work," Derek muttered.

His seemingly light comment – an explanation as to why he was already here – was at odds with the look on his face. Or better said: with the lack of any sort of expression on his face. He looked utterly blank; his face nothing but a smooth canvas, betraying nothing of his thoughts.

"Ah, that's nice of him," Stiles answered weakly and gnawed at his lower lip, hesitatingly coming closer. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"No, figured I'd surprise you," Derek said, his voice still airy, but his eyes averted away, not allowing the fox shifter to see what he was really thinking.

Derek had been rubbing his index finger across the P of ' _Planned_ ' but he stilled when Stiles placed his hand down on the pamphlet. His hand retreated and Stiles hastily gathered the pamphlets and stuffed them in the top drawer of his desk, though it was far too late by now to attempt to hide them. Crap, he shouldn't have left them out here, but in his defence, he hadn't expected anyone to be in his room before him.

Heavy silence hung between them; Derek standing there as frozen as a statue and Stiles, awkwardly fidgeting, wishing he knew what to say, how to start the conversation anew. His usual big mouth and quick wit had completely deserted him at the moment.

Derek stirring broke the statue quo at last. He leant a bit backwards, his arms crossed almost defensively.

"I didn't know you'd gone to the centre," he said stiffly.

Stiles shrugged half-heartedly. "Nobody does. Didn't exactly advertise where I was going."

"Why did you go there?"

Before he could stop himself, Stiles rolled his eyes heavily and replied sarcastically, "Why would someone in my position go to Planned Parenthood, Derek?"

Derek clenched his jaw. "Does this mean that – you made your decision?"

Pursing his lips, Stiles stared at him. Stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie, he said, "I'm going to ask you something and I want you to be completely honest. And when I say, completely, I do mean completely. I don't want you to consider my feelings in this, I just want the truth."

"When have I ever lied to you?" Derek demanded, irritation wiping away the monotone tone he'd been using.

"You haven't," Stiles conceded, "but you change some answers because you're thinking about how I feel."

"I didn't know it was a crime to be considerate of my mate's feelings," Derek retorted; sarcasm heavy in both his voice and his eyes when he finally looked at the younger man.

"I can't do shit with your consideration now, Derek," Stiles told him bluntly and the other man was slightly taken aback. "I need the truth now, not some sugar coated version to spare my feelings."

Derek pursed his lips. "Fine. What's the question?"

The Omega took a deep breath; his hands balling into fists into his pocket. "Do you want to keep the baby or not?"

"Stiles, I already told you I am - "

"Perfectly fine with whatever I decide, yes, I know," Stiles cut him off sharply. "But that's not what I'm asking, Derek. I want to know what _you_ want to do. Don't think about my feelings now, don't think of how you don't want to hurt me – I want you to think of your own feelings now. If this all depended on you, what would you choose? Would you want to keep the baby? A yes or a no, that's all I want to hear. No ' _I'm fine with whatever you decide_ '; just a yes or a no."

Derek swallowed and he turned his head away, looking like he was struggling with something. The silence which fell now was beyond stifling, making it almost hard to breathe, but Stiles remained standing a couple of feet away from Derek, waiting for the other man to finally give an honest answer.

Yes, Derek would respect whichever decision he made – but what did Derek himself want? If it was entirely up to him, what would he want to do? Stiles thought he knew the answer. It was there in the soft touches against his belly, the way eyes lingered when they swept across his body. In how eyes had looked ready to shoot fire at the pamphlets; claws briefly popping out and disappearing in a flash when the pamphlets had disappeared into the drawer.

Derek wanted to keep the baby. Plain and simple. Now he just needed to admit that truth aloud without thinking he needed to be considerate of Stiles' feelings. He needed Derek to be honest with himself.

"Yes, I want to keep the baby." Derek's voice rang loudly through the bedroom, bouncing against the walls. His face was a cross between frustration and shame as he stared with burning eyes at Stiles; the knuckles of his hands turning white with how tightly he was clenching his hands. "I don't want you to have an abortion, I want us to keep our baby!"

His breathing was a bit ragged, as if he'd been running a marathon at full speed instead of just admitting his true feelings.

"Even though we haven't even been a couple for that long?" Stiles remarked, rubbing the material of his hoodie between his left thumb and index finger.

They'd known each other for years now, but there was a difference in knowing each other and actually being in a relationship. For the longest time Stiles had thought he'd never have a shot with the second oldest Hale. Then Theo had happened right when his hopes had been answered and he'd lived in worry that Derek would give up on him before the six months had been over. He wouldn't have blamed him if he had – who would want to wait six months for someone who had to be courted by someone else because of an ancient tradition?

But they were together now, happily together, even after all the shit that had happened. Was their relationship strong enough to handle a baby already, though?

People would probably say no.

"That doesn't matter," Derek instantly retorted; his tone firm. "What does it matter that our official relationship only started in September? We've known each other for years now – this isn't some random fling, this is serious for me."

"Obviously," Stiles murmured, gazing at the wolf shifter. Nobody could doubt the amount of conviction in his voice nor the steady confidence in his multicoloured eyes.

Derek stepped forwards, enveloping him in his arms. "I don't care whether we've only been together for six months or six years; I've never been as sure of something as I am about us," he said resolutely; his warm hands rubbing up and down Stiles' back. "I want to raise this baby with you, but only if you want to."

"But you don't want an abortion," Stiles sighed, fisting his hands into the soft material of Derek's dark blue sweater.

"You asked me what I would do and that's my answer," Derek stated and kissed his forehead. "But my other answer is just as truthful as the one I gave now: I'm okay with whatever decision you make. I'd rather not have this baby than have you be miserable. This isn't worth losing you over."

Stiles was quiet, contemplating what he'd just heard, as he slowly rubbed his face back and forth against Derek's left shoulder. The Beta let him, never ceasing rubbing his back. Occasionally he scented the fox back; his nose brushing alongside Stiles' ear or the top of his head; the bristles of his beard scratching Stiles' scalp slightly.

"I'm not doing it," he finally admitted, pulling back slightly so he could look up at Derek. At the puzzled look he received, he elaborated, "The abortion, I mean. I thought about it; it's why I went to the centre and got all those pamphlets and such." He flapped his hand at the drawer.

"I've been thinking about it a lot and I tried to imagine going back to that centre – because there's no way I can afford Lydia's doctor, bless that girl for helping me, though – but. I just can't." He rubbed his hands over his face briskly and scoffed. "I just – can't. Because I was so stupid to start imagining how the kid would look like and whether I can forgive myself if I went through with it and I just." He breathed out harshly through his nose.

"I just _know_ I'd forever regret going through with that. I would keep wondering how the kid would have turned out, whether it'd have been a girl or a boy, and …" he trailed off, worrying his lips between his teeth. He shook his head. "I'm probably the least qualified to take care of a child, fuck knows in which ways I'll screw this up, but – I want this. I want to keep the baby, no matter how stu-hmph!"

The rest of his sentence got swallowed up by a hungry pair of lips, the kiss urgent and all consuming; hands cupping his face like he was something precious to hold. He clung to strong shoulders as the kiss grew in intensity, turning his legs into jelly, and he gasped when he was pressed to his desk; his legs parting for the wolf to stand between them.

"You mean it?" Derek asked urgently; his thumbs stroking Stiles' cheekbones. His eyes were dark and sparking, bleeding gold near the edges, and the tip of his fangs poked through; stark white against dark pink lips.

"Yeah, I mean it," Stiles answered, his mind still a bit muddled from the kiss. "God knows how this kid is going to turn out with me as its parent, but - "

"You're going to be great," Derek promised him, gifting him with a full, bright smile that had Stiles swallowing and bracing his hands against the edge of the desk. " _We're_ going to be great at this, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," Stiles said weakly and moaned when Derek kissed him again.

"Everything's going to be fine, you'll see," Derek promised; his eyes positively glittering as he looked at Stiles before kissing him again and again, one hand cupping the back of his neck and the other resting against his stomach.

In that moment, drowning in Derek's kisses, in his presence, in his touches, Stiles allowed himself to believe him.

 _They were going to be just fine._

* * *

 **AN2: I hope it wasn't too bad! Next one will have them informing their family about the baby.**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's note: Took me a bit longer to finish it, but I finally managed it!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Digidestined10; Safieri; PleiadesWolfe; ShadowXMoonlight; Almondweb; babyvfan; yukino76; FanFictionAddict13**

 **Warnings: implied mature content; smidgen of angst. I think that's it.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 30_

Fingers trailed down his naked back, following the ridges of his spine meticulously. He arched his back slightly, but couldn't move away yet, the two of them still tied together by Derek's knot.

Not that he had any real desire to move away now. He felt warm and sated, pleasure still simmering low in his belly after Derek had thoroughly taken him apart. His muscles ached pleasantly and the whole room reeked of sex. He would have to open the window for a bit to get rid of the smell before dad would be home, but for now he was content to just lie there, spooned by Derek.

"You're sure you want to keep the baby?" Derek asked out of the blue; his hand curved around Stiles' hip.

Stiles jerked in surprise, hissing when that action pulled at his muscles. "The hell, Derek? Where is that coming from?"

He felt Derek shrug. "Just wanting to make sure," he muttered, lying so close against the Omega that his lips brushed against the back of Stiles' neck when he spoke. "I know you weren't … exactly enthusiastic about it before."

That was probably the understatement of the year. Especially when compared to how Derek had reacted.

Releasing a soft sigh, he grabbed Derek's hand and tangled their fingers together. Silence reigned between them for a moment while he tried to organise his thoughts. He needed to make himself clear enough that there wouldn't be any misunderstandings between them.

"It's not that I never wanted children," he started carefully. His pillow rustled when Derek shifted his head. "It's just that I had this plan in mind, you know? I'd finish my studies first, then settle down, maybe even get married and then, once my career would be going well, I would start thinking about children. That was always the plan I had in mind, the way I wanted to do things."

He breathed out slowly. "Nowhere in my plans did I end up pregnant at barely nineteen and definitely not before I had at least finished my studies. Then again, I hadn't calculated in the factor that I might be some rare were creature whose heritage makes taking suppressants impossible."

"Why did you decide to keep the baby then?" Derek asked softly.

The Omega bit down on his lip. "I actually considered getting the baby removed," he murmured, wanting to be completely honest. "It's why I went to the centre. I thought everything would be easier then and I could just forget about it and focus on my studies. But … the more I started thinking about it, the more I realised I couldn't go through with it. I would forever wonder how the baby would have turned out and … I just couldn't. I couldn't stand the thought of living with that regret."

"I'm glad you didn't go through with it," Derek murmured, kissing his shoulder.

Stiles smiled faintly. "Yeah, I figured, big guy. You're definitely stuck with me now, though."

"Oh, the horror," Derek deadpanned.

The younger man snorted. "You say that now, but wait until you're stuck with me every day and I start calling you randomly to tell you about something I read online."

Derek huffed amused. "Have you forgotten that you've already done that before? Two months ago, you called me in the middle of the night to ask me if Bigfoot and the Yeti would be friends if they ever met or if they would try to take over each other's territory."

"Oh." Stiles blinked and felt his cheeks warm up. He cleared his throat. "Okay, so that's your own fault for even picking up that late at night."

"I didn't mind." He felt Derek smiling against his skin. "I had a lot more fun listening to you talk about it than I would have sleeping."

"You're such a sap," Stiles sighed. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when Derek's hand slipped out of his own and went to cover his stomach.

Nuzzling the hollow underneath his ear, Derek murmured, "So we're keeping the baby."

"We're keeping the baby," Stiles confirmed and wiggled his arse, smirking when he caught Derek's cut off groan. "I have one regret, though."

"Regret? What?" Derek asked, but he sounded distracted.

Stiles' smirk grew. "I always figured that when I was ready for kids, I'd use my heat to get pregnant. Guess we'll have to wait for the next one to make that happen, though." He intentionally squeezed his inner muscles down around Derek, biting down in his pillow to muffle his noise when pleasure sparked again, heat flashing up once more in his lower belly.

He had just enough time to hear Derek snarling before he was abruptly pulled up on his knees, tearing a surprised yelp out of him. His hands briefly flailed around before they slammed down on the mattress, right at the same moment a part of his brain registered the wolf shifter inside of him rapidly hardening again.

"You can be such a fucking menace," Derek grunted and his hands clamped down around Stiles' hips, a hint of nails pricking in the fox's flesh, before he set a brutal pace, practically driving the air out of Stiles' lungs.

"Wh-what? You don't like – like that idea?" Stiles teased, pushing back eagerly once he'd regained his senses – or well, as much of his senses as he could regain with Derek seemingly intent on fucking his brain out.

Not that he minded that – far from it.

Derek bent over him and whispered harshly in his ear, _"You said that on purpose!"_

"No, you think so?" Stiles taunted and then choked on air when the next thrust knocked him off balance, forcing him flat on his face before he shoved himself up on his elbows. "Think you like that – that thought, though," he said, a tad breathless, moaning when his sweet spot was struck dead on, pleasure rapidly building.

Teeth nipped at his ear. "Oh, I definitely like that," Derek murmured; his lips sliding down to Stiles' neck where he started worrying a bruise in the junction between the Omega's neck and shoulder. "And I'm definitely not opposed to trying out that method in the future."

"I figured you weren't," was the only answer Stiles could give before he completely blanked out as pleasure rushed through his veins like fire, setting him alight from within.

Afterwards he laid on top of Derek, his head cradled against a broad shoulder. "We're going to have to tell our family and friends about the baby," he mumbled, trailing his hand up and down over Derek's right side.

Derek stirred slightly. "Hm, we could tell my parents tomorrow morning," he murmured; his hand warm on Stiles' hip. "They're supposed to be both home tomorrow."

"Sounds good. I guess we can tell our friends tomorrow during lunch or dinner or so, depending on when we'll meet up," Stiles mused and then hesitated. "When will we tell my dad, though? He can't know as the last one, that wouldn't be right. Not that I'm really looking forward to telling him … God, he's going to be so disappointed."

"It's not going to be that bad," Derek tried to soothe him.

Stiles snorted. "We can only hope he's not going to shoot us."

"He's not going to shoot you – you're pregnant," Derek pointed out. "He might shoot me, though," he added pensively.

"Oh!" Stiles smacked Derek's thigh, ignoring his wince. "We can tell him now! We can go to the precinct and tell him there about how he's going to be a granddad soon – with all the deputies there as witnesses, he won't dare to shoot us!"

"Again, he's not going to shoot you; you're pregnant," Derek repeated patiently. "He wouldn't shoot someone who's pregnant, let alone his own son."

"Fine, then he'd shoot you and ground me for life," Stiles retorted sourly. He buried his face in Derek's shoulder to hide when he felt him move to look at him.

"You really think he's going to react that badly?" Derek asked softly, rubbing soothing circles across the Omega's lower back.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly; his claws briefly popping out before he forced them back. "All I know is that he basically drilled into my head that I needed to be safe when I slept with someone, because the last thing I'd want is to get pregnant at a too young age." He breathed out slowly, remembering all the talks he'd had with dad about it.

Back then he'd been quite annoyed, because he felt like dad had been treating him like a stupid kid with the amount of times he'd insisted on giving him the talk and reminding him to be safe – even though as it turned out, it wouldn't be until he was eighteen before someone finally took an interest in him. Dad would definitely remember all those talks too and would probably wonder where the hell he'd gone wrong to have his only son ending up pregnant at barely nineteen anyway, despite all the warnings and precautions.

Yeah, he wasn't really looking forward to informing dad about the baby.

"You listened to his warnings, though," Derek remarked calmly. "It's not your fault your heritage turned out incompatible with your suppressants."

Stiles huffed. "That's one way of putting it, I suppose."

He would definitely need to look into other sorts of suppressants soon. Not that he would need those in the foreseeable future, but neither was he planning on spending the rest of his fertile life popping out babies just because his heritage didn't mesh with his regular suppressants.

"We'll just have to be honest," Derek murmured, kissing his forehead.

"Yeah, guess so," Stiles sighed, carefully stretching out his left leg. He couldn't move too much yet – Derek's knot still not having completely gone down yet – but if he didn't stretch now, he'd have to deal with a major cramp later on. "Still think it's best if we tell him at the precinct, though. If we wait until tomorrow, he's going to be the last one to know and I don't think that he'll appreciate that."

"Fine, we'll do it your way," Derek acquiesced. "After we've taken a shower, we can go."

"Not sure if that would really make a difference; I'm going to smell like you either way," Stiles said amused.

"There's certainly a difference between smelling like me and smelling like sex," Derek disagreed and pulled his chin up to kiss him before he could say anything in response.

Stiles didn't mind and kissed eagerly back. At least when Derek kissed him, his mind was blissfully empty and he didn't worry about his dad's reaction.

* * *

His nerves had returned tenfold by the time Derek parked in front of the precinct. Staring at the building – as familiar as his own home after all these years – he bit down on his lip, wondering just how the hell he was going to tell dad about the baby.

It was only logical that he should inform dad now. He – they – had made their decision and he could hardly keep the pregnancy a secret. In theory he could, he supposed, for as long as he wasn't showing, but that wouldn't be fair on his dad. The older man deserved to know he was going to become a grandfather and Stiles had kept quiet about it too long already.

He was startled a bit when a hand covered his left hand and squeezed it gently. He turned his face and met Derek's bright-eyed gaze.

"It's going to be all right," Derek assured him in a low voice.

"Yeah …" Stiles trailed off unconvinced. "Just in case: if you see my dad grabbing for his gun, go hide behind Parrish. He's dad's favourite deputy, so there's no chance he'll risk shooting you then."

Derek just sighed and shook his head lightly. "Come on, let's go. With a bit of luck, he isn't out on a call yet."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Stiles muttered, but followed him out of the car.

Coincidentally it was Parrish who they encountered first when they stepped into the building. He greeted them with a smile; a file in his left hand and his right one clutching a cup of coffee.

"Hey guys, you're here for a social visit? Or did something happen?"

"Social visit," Stiles smiled, probably a bit too widely if he had to go by Parrish' confused frown, but oh well. "Is my dad in his office?"

"Yeah, you're lucky; he just got back from a call," Parrish told him. "You can just go in, I'm sure he won't mind."

"Thanks." He hid his hands in the pockets of his hoodie to ensure nobody saw them trembling as he made his way to dad's office.

He couldn't hide his nerves from Derek, however, because he felt a broad hand coming to rest warmly on the small of his back; the light weight settling him a bit. The touch couldn't take away all his nerves, but he felt a tad less inclined to throw up now, which was something he supposed. The last thing either of them needed was him puking his guts out on the floor.

"Hey dad, you're busy?" he asked lightly at the same time he knocked on the door.

The Sheriff glanced up, pausing in his process of writing something down. "This can wait," he said and closed the file. "What's the matter?"

"Does something need to be wrong for me to visit my dad?" Stiles retorted lightly, but dad wasn't fooled.

With slightly narrowed eyes, he ordered, "Derek, close the door. You two sit down and talk."

"That's a dangerous command to give me, I hope you realise that," Stiles told him, but the Sheriff wasn't impressed.

"Stiles."

Gnawing on his lower lip, Stiles took the right chair reluctantly. He heard the door close quietly behind him before Derek sat down next to him; his hand finding the Omega's easily.

He tried to come up with the best way to break the news – but did a good way even exist? He guessed it did in certain circumstances; like being much older and having a steady career to name some – but sitting right across from his dad, it had suddenly become much harder to find the right words.

When the silence just kept dragging on, dad sighed and rubbed his left cheek. "Did you steal something?"

"What? No," Stiles answered perplexed, thrown off by the unexpected question.

"Did you kill someone – accidentally or not?"

"What the hell? Of course not!"

Dad spread out his hands. "Then whatever it is you're having trouble telling me can't be that bad." A faint smile lurked across his lips.

Next to Stiles, Derek sighed softly and he squeezed his hand. "You want me to tell him?"

"No, I have to do it," Stiles replied, even if a large part in him was jumping for the opportunity to let someone else spill the news.

This was his dad, though – it wouldn't be right for someone else to tell him he was going to be a grandfather soon.

"Stiles." Dad's soft voice called his attention and when he looked at him, dad was leaning forwards slightly; concern filling his eyes. "What's wrong?"

He took a deep breath – though that did nothing to calm him down – and started haltingly, "First, I – I want you to know that I've always listened to every talk you gave me and I did everything you told me to do."

"Okay …" Dad eyed him strangely, obviously confused about where this was going.

"And I just want it to be known that this is not really my fault per se. Because I couldn't have foreseen this," he went on nervously, rubbing his free hand over his thigh. The friction of the jeans against his skin turned slightly burning, but he paid it no mind.

"Stiles, just tell me."

"It's – I'm pregnant." The words, few as they were, echoed in his ears, and he swallowed; his mouth as dry as the Sahara now. He tried to lick his lips, but that didn't do much, except make them even drier still.

He probably resembled a deer caught in the headlights of a giant car at the moment as he stared wide-eyed at his dad, afraid of what he was going to say, how he would react to the news.

 _Maybe I shouldn't have eaten that second burger during lunch_ , he thought a tad hysterical as his stomach churned violently.

"You're pregnant," Dad repeated slowly, leaning back in his chair. His face was carefully blank as he asked, "I thought you'd gone back on suppressants. Did you miss a couple of them?"

"No, you know I never forget them." He was probably crushing Derek's hand now with how harshly he was squeezing it, but the older man didn't show any signs of discomfort. "It has to do with my being an Elemental Fox apparently. That particular heritage – it messed with my suppressants, nulled the effects of them and well, I didn't know that before so, when Derek and I …" he trailed off, moving his one hand awkwardly.

"So basically it was like you weren't using protection at all," Dad surmised and pursed his lips. "How far along are you now? Do you know that?"

"Nine weeks now."

"Hm. You've made a decision yet?" Dad's voice remained as blank as face, which didn't help Stiles' nerves at all, because it was impossible for him to gauge what exactly the older man was thinking about this.

"Y-yeah." Stiles cleared his throat and felt his cheeks warm a bit when he admitted, "We've talked about it and we're going to keep the baby."

Dad's gaze fell on Derek, who straightened his shoulders slightly. "You're okay with that, Derek?"

"Yes, I'm completely okay with it, sir. I'm not planning on abandoning Stiles or our baby," Derek stated; his thumb rubbing soothingly across the back of Stiles' hand.

Dad uttered a contemplative noise. "Derek, would you mind going outside for a bit? I need to talk to my son alone."

"Sir?" Derek looked back and forth uncertainly between Stiles and the Sheriff.

"Nothing to worry about," Dad reassured him with an affable smile. "I just want to talk to my son alone for a bit. Then you two can leave."

When Derek looked at him questioningly, Stiles sighed and nodded, knowing there was no way to get out of this. Whatever dad wanted to say, it was best to get it over with now.

The wolf shifter pressed his lips together, his face clearly giving away that he didn't like this at all, but he stood up regardless and left the office, closing the door once more behind him.

"Okay, so you got him out. Is this where you start yelling at me for being an irresponsible idiot?" Stiles questioned warily, slumping down in his chair.

Dad gazed at him calmly. "Were you lying when you said your Elemental side was messing with your suppressants?"

The younger man shook his head quickly.

"Then I don't consider you irresponsible."

"Not even for wanting to keep the baby?" Stiles asked sceptically. He wouldn't blame dad if he did.

Dad rolled his shoulders. "You're an adult; it's completely up to you whether you're keeping the baby or not," he said, but his eyes darkened a tad. "That brings me to why I sent Derek outside. I need you to be honest with me here: did Derek in any way influence you to keep the baby?"

"What?" Stiles shot up in his chair, shocked. "Of course not! He left the decision entirely up to me! Why the hell would you think he convinced me to keep the baby?"

Dad shrugged, looking apologetic yet relaxed at the same time. "The Hales have always been very family oriented. Derek is also a couple of years older than you, so for him keeping the baby is slightly less life uprooting than it would be for you. I just needed to know for sure, Stiles. I don't want you to feel like you have to keep the baby if you don't want to."

"I did think about it, you know. I didn't just decide to keep the baby on a whim," Stiles muttered sourly. "And Derek would have been fine with whatever I chose to do. I literally had to push him to get him to admit that he wanted to keep the baby, dad. He kept thinking about my feelings instead of considering his own."

"It is quite horrible to have a mate who's considerate of your feelings," Dad said dryly before he sobered up again. "As long as you're not pushed into taking a certain decision."

"I'm not." Stiles shook his head. "Derek wouldn't do that to me."

"I'm glad," Dad smiled faintly.

"But, ehm, what do you think about it?" Stiles asked tentatively, dropping his eyes to the floor. He noticed he was fiddling with a loose thread of his hoodie and forced himself to stop, stuffing his hands between his thighs.

"I'm not going to lie – I wish you'd been a couple of years older before you got pregnant," Dad said gently and Stiles nodded mutely.

He understood that – hadn't he wished that as well?

"But that doesn't mean I'm angry," Dad continued and Stiles' shoulders slumped in relief.

The older man stood up and rounded his desk, pulling at Stiles' shoulders in order to get him to stand up. As soon as he was on his feet, dad dragged him into a hug.

"No matter what, I'm here for you and always will be," Dad murmured. "If you want to keep this baby, I'll support you in every way I can, okay? I know you can do this, though. You're going to be a great dad, I know that."

"And you're going to be an awesome granddad," Stiles choked out; a lump forming in the back of his throat. He pressed his face in dad's neck, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He wasn't going to cry, damn it!

"Granddad, huh?" Dad chuckled ruefully. "That's going to take a bit of time to get used to, I admit."

Stiles smiled, hugging him back. "We've got time."

All the time in the world.

* * *

In comparison, informing the Hales about the upcoming addition was less daunting than telling his dad had been.

Derek had called for a general meeting in the morning, meaning that both his parents, Peter, Laura and Cora were present when he and Stiles walked into their house the next morning; some of them looking more awake and bright-eyed than others.

Perhaps it was dad's comment about the Hales' opinion about family lingering in the back of his mind, but telling them about the baby went a lot easier and involved a lot less nerves. There were still a small amount of nerves buzzing in his lower belly, but he felt remarkably calm.

It probably helped a lot that upon the announcement of "Stiles is expecting my cub", Stiles saw Talia's eyes positively light up before a wide smile broke out on her face and she hurried to cross the distance between them, pulling them both into a tight hug.

"Congratulations, you two! This is amazing news!" she practically gushed before she composed herself and took a step back. "I didn't know you were trying, though."

"We weren't," Derek answered; his arm still firmly resting around Stiles' back. "Apparently Stiles' heritage had a negative effect on his suppressants."

This time it was Peter whose face lit up, which was a far less reassuring sight than Talia's had been.

"So being an Elemental Creature comes with its downsides too, hm?" Peter murmured, prowling a bit closer before Derek's warning growl made him halt. He raised his hands and grinned. "No worries, dear nephew. I wouldn't dream of touching your mate," he almost purred; his ice blue eyes glinting sharply.

"Don't pay attention to Uncle Peter," Laura said dismissively and stepped forwards to hug them both, scenting their cheeks. A shark like grin was plastered on her face when she pulled back. "I'm going to have so much fun spoiling my nephew or niece!"

"As long as he or she doesn't inherit our brother's personality, they're golden," Cora remarked and pointed a warning finger at them. "Don't think I'm ever going to take up diaper duty, though."

"You might have to if you want to babysit their kid, Cora," Alexander commented amused.

"Then I just wait until the kid's old enough to be without diapers," Cora retorted, sticking out her tongue.

"How did we go from telling them about the baby to them discussing babysitting duties?" Stiles muttered lowly, only intending for Derek to hear it.

Derek chuckled, pulling him even closer to him. "That's my family for you," he said fondly, even as he batted away Laura's hand when she went to ruffle his hair.

"We're going to celebrate this," Talia announced, already striding to the kitchen. "This calls for pancakes and waffles!"

"When I asked for those yesterday, you said there wasn't any time to make them," Laura pouted, placing her hands on her hips.

Cora patted her shoulder when she walked past her. "That's because you're no longer the favourite now. Derek is. First grandchild trumps firstborn, you should know this."

"Bitch," Laura muttered sourly.

"Loser."

They went into the kitchen, bickering all the way, closely followed by their father who shook his head wearily and Peter, who seemed to be thinking about something. Stiles didn't want to know what; Peter thinking that deeply could never mean anything good.

"The favourite now, huh?" Stiles said, when they were the only two left in the living room.

Derek rolled his eyes and smiled. "I told you it would be okay."

"You're annoying when you're right," Stiles informed him, clasping his hands around Derek's neck.

"I must be very annoying then," Derek smirked before dipping his head to kiss him.

Their sweet kiss lasted until Laura yelled, "Hey, you two lovebirds! Just because you're mom's favourites now, doesn't mean you don't have to help in the kitchen!"

"Man, it must really sting being degraded by an unborn baby," Stiles smirked, pulling away from Derek.

"I'll remember that comment, Stilinski! The moment my precious nephew or niece is out of you, I'll kick your butt!"

 _Ah, family._

Now the only ones left to inform were their friends. Two parties down, one more to go.

* * *

 **AN2: I hope it met your expectations at least somewhat! Writing the scene with the Sheriff was surprisingly hard to put together ...**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's note: Many apologies for the delay. I didn't intend to have you waiting this long, but the chapter was being rather difficult and wouldn't cooperate at all with me *sweatdrops* I hope it isn't too bad!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Almondweb; Safieri; babyvfan; Digidestined10; Myxes**

 **Warnings: Some time skips; bit of drama; suspense**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 31_

Telling their friends went the easiest out of informing everyone.

Kira grinned widely, beaming at them, before hugging them both; Erica literally squealed, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. She practically flew around their necks, squeezing the air out of their lungs with her enthusiastic embrace. Boyd was more reserved, but no less sincere when he congratulated Stiles and Derek quietly. Isaac wasn't present, but he sent a quick text to Derek after Erica had sent him a string of texts.

Scott was a bit upset at first that Stiles hadn't immediately confided into him, but then the realisation hit him that he would become an uncle and he turned into an enthusiastic, adorable puppy, gushing over Stiles' stomach until the Omega pushed him away, laughing in protest.

After Erica had finally calmed down somewhat, she instantly declared that she would become the baby's godmother and favourite aunt; her tone of voice brooking no argument. Privately Stiles thought she'd have to fight for that honour with Laura and perhaps even Lydia, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

"So you finally told everyone," Lydia said, later that evening.

She'd finally found some time to Skype him and whilst doing so, she was simultaneously painting her nails in a poisonous green colour and reading a chapter out of a very thick book.

"Yeah, I got told off by Melissa because I didn't go to her," Stiles groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

Scott had spilt the beans to his mom before Stiles even had had a chance to do so and she had stopped by earlier today, scolding him for keeping quiet before hugging him tightly and promising him softly he could always find her if he needed to talk.

Lydia arched an eyebrow. "And you expected anything else from her?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. It was just too awkward."

"I told you it would be fine," she reminded him primly. She finished painting her left hand and switched over to her right. "This would go so much easier if I had someone else here," she muttered disgruntled.

"You're never going to let me forget that, huh?" he asked resigned, ignoring her last remark.

"Never," she said flippantly and clucked her tongue when she glanced at something offscreen. "I have to go now, but we'll talk again soon."

"Sure," he agreed easily. He still had some chapters of his own to read before he could call it quits for the evening.

"Oh, and I'm planning your baby shower," she added almost casually, giving him a deadly sweet smile. "Don't even think about holding one without me."

"Wasn't planning on it," he squeaked, because holy crap, even through a screen, she looked terrifying as hell.

"Good." She nodded approvingly, a small satisfied smile briefly curling the corners of her mouth.

That was all he saw before she disconnected the call on her end.

"Man, the girls in my life are brutal," he muttered, pushing his laptop further away from him.

If they all decided to gang up on him … He shuddered. Not even Derek would be able to stop them all, he was sure.

* * *

"My brain is mush," Stiles announced a couple of weeks later, trudging through the door and falling straight onto the couch with a groan. He ended up with his face pressed into one of the cushions, making it more difficult to breathe, but he was also too lazy to move his head at the moment.

To breathe or not to breathe …

"From studying too much or from going on a Wikipedia binge?" Derek sounded way too amused when his mate was suffering.

He found the strength to twist his head around in the direction of Derek's voice and glared balefully. "I'll have you know I'm a perfect student," he sniffed offended. "I studied for hours on end."

"Such a good student," Derek smirked and lifted up his legs so he could sit down on the couch. He started massaging his calves gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I said, mushy brain, but you're doing good work there, don't stop," Stiles sighed, settling more comfortable on the couch. "What were you doing before I got here? I'm not keeping you from your work, am I?" He made a move to get up, but Derek shushed him, squeezing his right leg gently.

"Don't worry about it, I finished my project yesterday and haven't heard of the other one yet," Derek assured him.

"So what were you doing then?" Stiles crossed his arms underneath him, resting his head on them.

"Oh, nothing in particular," Derek murmured.

Stiles would have left it at that, enjoying the impromptu massage, but then he caught sight of something peeking around the corner of Derek's bedroom, which piqued his interest instantly. He raised his head and after a closer look he realised he was looking at something akin to yellowish thick foam. The hell?

"You're remodelling your room?" he asked curiously, twisting around so he ended up on his back instead. His interest only grew when he saw Derek's ears starting to glow pink.

What was there to be embarrassed about when it came to remodelling a room?

"Something like that," the wolf shifter replied evasively.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Stiles jumped off the couch and Derek cursed when he was just a second too late to stop the fox, his hand snatching empty air. Stiles was in the bedroom before Derek even had had the chance to get up as well.

"You're adding padding to the walls?" Stiles asked blankly, eyeing the weird material dubiously before looking at the bare walls.

All the furniture had been shoved back to the middle of the room and two walls were already covered with the foam like stuff. In the right corner of the room, large square wooden planks had been stacked on top of each other, appearing a bit plain compared to the foam.

Derek came to stand next to him, his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched up slightly. "I'm soundproofing the room," he admitted begrudgingly; his cheeks reddening a tad underneath the scruff he had going.

"Soundproofing the room," Stiles echoed, still staring at the foam plastered against the right wall.

He blamed the many hours of studying as to why he didn't immediately catch on to what Derek was implying. When it dawned upon him finally, he drew a sharp breath and turned swiftly around, gaping at the older man, who looked away uncomfortably.

"You're soundproofing the room for the baby!" he exclaimed, and damn, he hadn't meant to sound that accusing, but holy shit, Derek was already preparing the apartment for the baby!

Derek shuffled with his feet, his arms remaining crossed. "Just figured I might as well get it out of the way early on," he explained awkwardly. "I had some free time anyway, so …"

"So you decided you'd already start preparing your apartment," Stiles finished dryly. "Not that I have a lot of experience with these kinds of things – none actually, just so we're clear – but don't people usually wait with adjusting the home until one of them is around five to six months pregnant?"

At least that was how his parents had done it. They had only started bothering babyproofing the house and putting together the nursery when mom had been nearly six months pregnant and then still only because mom had grown too restless. She'd often teased dad that if she hadn't insisted on preparing the house for Stiles' arrival, Stiles would still have slept with them in their bed instead of in his own room.

"It's just soundproofing the bedroom," Derek grumbled, hunching up his shoulders even more. "It's not like I have started on the nursery."

 _Yet_ was the unspoken word lingering between them.

Looking at his pink cheeked mate, Stiles only had two thoughts running through his mind. _He's preparing the home for me and the baby, holy crap_. And, _shit, that's so adorable_.

And so he did what any sensible person with such a thoughtful mate would do: he kissed him. Long and hard.

And if nothing soundproofing wise happened for the rest of the afternoon, well, that was neither here nor there.

* * *

Near the end of April, Stiles found himself back at the doctor's place, this time accompanied by Derek instead of Lydia. Last time he'd been here, he'd received the confirmation that the tests hadn't been faulty and that he was indeed pregnant. He'd barely been able to look at the monitor when the doctor had been circling the small dot, too wrapped up in his panic about what he was going to do.

The contrast with today's visit couldn't be any clearer, he mused as he and Derek were called into the doctor's office. At sixteen weeks pregnant, they were both hoping that the doctor would be able to tell them the baby's sex today. Sixteen weeks was still relatively early, Stiles knew, and the possibility existed that the doctor either would be wrong or wouldn't be able to tell the sex yet if the baby had turned him or herself in such a way that checking it would be impossible.

With his exams starting soon, however, he'd figured that making an appointment now would be better than having to wait more than a month instead. That and he was just impatient.

"All right, looks like the baby is growing like he or she should," Doctor Lea said approvingly, peering at the monitor. She started outlining shapes on the screen. "Here is the head, these are the arms and here you see the legs kicking."

As if transfixed, Stiles stared at the screen, barely aware of Derek grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. Last time he'd been here, he had only glimpsed at a small spot before he'd averted his eyes again. It had been nothing more than a simple blob, barely distinguishable to the untrained eyes.

It definitely wasn't a blob anymore. What he was looking at now already resembled a tiny human being; a fact his brain had trouble understanding. All he could do was look between the screen and his stomach, marvelling at how something which already resembled a small human being was inside of him, growing steadily.

"And here's the heartbeat," Lea smiled, pressing on a button.

The steady _thump, thump_ beat filled the room at once and Stiles bit down on his lower lip, the sound hitting him unexpectedly hard. When he glanced at Derek, he saw his eyes widening, wonder filling them, even though he'd heard the heartbeat before. Perhaps it was different hearing it in this manner. Hazel eyes caught his and they softened, his fingers tightening around the Omega's slightly.

"Do you want me to tell you the sex if your baby's in a good position?" she asked them.

"Definitely!" Stiles immediately replied, making Lea laugh and Derek smirk. "What? Makes it easier to decide on a name."

"All right, give me a moment. I'm going to check …" she trailed off, moving the transducer slowly around, shifting it more towards Stiles' right side.

Stiles looked back at the screen, but the moving image told him nothing, except that there was clearly a tiny human inside of him, waving their arms around – or maybe those were the legs, he wasn't sure.

He focused his attention on the doctor instead, even though her face told him as much as the screen did: nothing whatsoever.

"Now keep in mind, you're still in an early stage so I can't tell you with hundred percent certainty whether you're getting a boy or a girl," she started, switching her gaze from the monitor to them. "I'm not going to pretend that I'm flawless."

"That's fine," Derek reassured her. There was a note of excitement in his voice when he asked, "But have you been able to see something?"

She smiled. "It's your lucky day in that sense, because your baby didn't feel like hiding. From the looks of it – again can't tell you with a hundred percent certainty – you're going to get a girl."

 _A girl._

 _They were going to have a daughter?_

His eyes met Derek's, both as wide as saucers, and the first thing he blurted out was, "Dude, we're so going to need your sisters' and your mom's help! I don't think there's a guide for this on the internet!"

* * *

"I can't believe that was the first thing you said after finding out you're having a daughter!"

Scott was laughing his ass off too much to say anything, but he nodded in agreement with Erica, because he was a shitty best friend like that.

"I was surprised, okay!" Stiles defended himself. "I thought we'd be having a boy or so, considering there are barely any girls in my family." At least, not that he knew of, but admittedly, he hadn't kept up with his family's whereabouts in years. The majority of them lived in another country, so he didn't really think he could be blamed for not keeping up with the family gossip.

Isaac raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Derek. "You're mated to someone who has two sisters and even more female cousins and it never came up in your mind that that might heighten your chances at getting a girl?"

His raised eyebrow was way too judgemental for someone still wearing scarfs at this time of the year. "That doesn't always have to mean something," Stiles said, scowling, but yeah, now that he thought about it, he really should have expected that the chances of him expecting a girl would be significantly heightened with Derek as the other father.

"Aw, don't worry about it, Batman," Erica cooed and leant around Derek to smack a kiss against Stiles' right cheek. "The girls and I will be available any time you need our help."

Somehow she managed to make that reassurance sound threatening and foreboding.

* * *

When his exams started a week later, he ended up being driven to them by others instead of going on his own. He would like to make it very clear that this wasn't his decision and it had actually led to his first serious fight with Derek.

"It's not like I'm going to be on the road for hours!" he'd argued as soon as Derek had informed him almost casually that Erica would drive him to his first exam in two days.

"I know, but it's just to make sure you're safe," Derek had tried to placate him and had reached out to draw him closer.

Stiles had stepped out of his reach immediately, becoming quite annoyed. "Safe from what? I'm literally just going to drive up there, take the exam, and that's it! Then I'll go back home! What the hell is out there that your pack would have to keep me safe from?!"

"Our pack," Derek had corrected him almost instinctively and any other moment Stiles would have been pleased to hear that, but now he'd just been on the verge of becoming pissed off. "It's just a precaution, Stiles. That's it. There's no actual danger, but - "

"I drive without a damn escort here in Beacon Hills, what makes me going to the university so different all of a sudden?"

"They're not your escorts, just companions," Derek had tried to deflect the question, but had given in when Stiles' eyes had narrowed to dangerous thin lines. "It's just … Beacon Hills is our territory and when you're outside … It doesn't feel right." He'd looked as equally frustrated as the fox shifter had felt.

"Is this because I'm pregnant?" Stiles had demanded and bingo, yeah, Derek's eyes widening just a notch had been all the answer he'd needed. He'd thrown his hands in the air, both upset and frustrated beyond belief. "I didn't turn into a fucking invalid all because I'm carrying your kid now! I'm more than capable of driving to the university and getting myself back without a fucking guard driving me everywhere!"

"Why are you being so difficult about this?" Derek had growled, eyes flashing gold briefly. "They would just accompany you; you don't have to let them drive, they can be - "

"Oh wow! I get permission to drive my own car? So gracious of you!" Stiles had sneered and his claws had popped out for a moment before he'd been able to force them back. "I'm so glad I'm allowed to drive my own car! Here I was thinking being pregnant made me incapable of driving!"

"You're making a huge deal out of nothing!"

" _Out of nothing?_ You've got the damn nerve to come here and tell me someone's going to be driving with me to every exam without even asking me what I think about that and I'm making a huge deal _out of nothing?_ Are you fucking kidding me now?!"

He'd whirled around, marching to the other end of the living room, feeling like he would explode any moment now. There had been so much anger trying to burst out that he'd seriously been considering just shifting into his fox form and going for a run.

"I'm sorry."

The soft words had left him frozen, taken off guard by the unexpected apology.

"I should have talked to you about it, instead of making you feel like this," Derek had said awkwardly. There had been a short pause, filled with palpable hesitation before the older man had approached him, carefully bringing his arms around him. When Stiles hadn't made any move to push him away, he'd brought him closer; his hands linked on top of the Omega's belly, which was no longer flat anymore.

"But the thought of you going out there, outside Beacon Hills, alone … I'm not comfortable with that," Derek had admitted quietly. "I know you can take care of yourself and I know there's nothing to worry about, but … I would just feel more at ease if you had someone with you, if only to keep you company."

Stiles had sighed, his shoulders slumping. He'd wanted to continue being pissed off, but that had been a hard thing to do with Derek being all sincere and confessing his worries. Shit, he was so weak for this man …

"Fine," he'd acquiesced, aware of the relieved sigh behind him. "But I draw the line at Isaac. No way he's going to join me to my exams; I'll end up kicking him out before we're even halfway there."

"You and Isaac are so damn weird," Derek had sighed, but in the end he'd promised not to sic Isaac on Stiles.

So now he was being escorted to his exams unwillingly, but there had been no point in continuing to argue about it. It seemed like a too stupid thing to get into fights about, even if he was still annoyed by having someone accompanying him. Erica had taken the first shift and when he'd returned from his exam, she'd been waiting for him with fried goodness in the form of a hamburger and fries with a milkshake, which admittedly had mollified him somewhat. Also the exam had left him starving after three hours of emptying his brain out on the paper, so Erica's gesture had come like a godsent.

After Erica, it had been Boyd's turn and even though Stiles would never admit it aloud, the broad shouldered boy's calming presence had had a good effect on his nerves, leaving him more or less relaxed when he'd entered the room to take his second exam.

Derek had driven him to his third exam, because Roscoe had temporarily given up after the first two, and well, Stiles might have spent a little bit more time in the car after arriving than he normally did, but well, at least he'd started on his exam in a far better mood than he'd woken up in.

Laura had spent the whole drive there drilling him about the terms he had had to study and while it had left him feeling quite frazzled, he had known every single definition, even the ones his brain had refused to absorb before, so her ruthless method had worked.

No way was he ever going to tell her that, though.

* * *

"We're being followed."

His final exam was finally over and done with and Stiles was ready to celebrate that fact as soon as they got back to Beacon Hills. Scott had accompanied him for this one and while he loved his best friend and trusted him with his life, Stiles had insisted on driving his precious jeep, because best friend or not, there was no way he would ever trust Scott behind the steering wheel of his precious baby.

"Yeah, I know," Stiles muttered, throwing a quick glance in the rear view mirror.

It hadn't been noticeable at first; the cars had basically been pouring out of the parking lot and onto the roads, all the students eager to celebrate their last paper or last exam. But as the roads became less busy, Stiles had quickly taken notice of one particular car who kept driving right behind them, following at a short distance. It was some sort of metallic grey Ford, an older type, with no license plate at the front. A young looking guy with short brown hair was behind the wheel; his eyes hidden by a pair of dark sunglasses.

It could be just a coincidence, the guy needing to follow the same road to get home, but … Somehow Stiles had a bad feeling about this.

"What are we going to do?" Scott had been cracking jokes up until five minutes ago, but now there wasn't any trace of humour left on his face; his features drawn with tension. His arm rested against the cracked open window and there was hint of claws replacing his human nails.

"First, we're going to make sure we're actually being followed," Stiles decided, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. He licked his lips. "No sense in getting my dad all worked up about this, if this just turns out to be a coincidence."

Scott furrowed his eyebrows. "And how are we going to make sure of that? Not like we can call out to him and ask him whether he's following us on purpose."

Stiles punched his arm gently. "Hey, sarcasm is my forte, not yours," he quipped and the corners of his friend's mouth barely twitched. "There's a gas station around two miles down the road. We'll stop there and see what he's going to do next."

"And what if he also stops there?" Scott's gaze briefly flickered towards his friend's middle, where the gentle swelling was just barely hidden behind a loose flannel shirt.

"Then we'll get the hell out of there and hope Roscoe doesn't give up on us before we're home," Stiles replied grimly and patted the steering wheel gently.

"Right." Scott paused, his frown deepening. "I'm not sure I really like this plan."

"Well, it's the only one we got for now, so we're going to have to make the best of it," Stiles retorted faux cheerfully, glancing into the window again.

The car was still following them. Splendid.

 _Just a coincidence_ , he told himself, his stomach flipping several times with nerves. _Nothing else._

* * *

He'd never thought he would be so happy one day to see a gas station. A gas station with plenty of cars adorning the parking lot, which made it even better. If the guy turned out to be some sort of psycho, at least they would stand a better chance surrounded with several other people.

Stiles made sure to choose a parking spot closest to the road; sure, that made the trek to the actual station longer, but at least they would be able to leave immediately instead of manoeuvring their way from between several cars.

As soon as they entered the small shop, they both wandered over to the magazine display, which gave them a good view on the parking lot. Picking up a random magazine, Stiles flipped through it casually, not reading any of the articles, but keeping an eye on the cars passing the station.

"Did you see him pass?" he whispered and Scott shook his head briefly.

"No, but maybe he took the exit before this one – oh shit, he's here!"

And sure enough, the Ford which had been tailing them ever since they'd left the university was turning into the parking lot, driving slowly past several cars – including Roscoe. Stiles just barely resisted the urge to duck down when the guy parked close to the shop and stepped out. His hopes of getting a good look at the guy were promptly dashed when the shop bell rang, followed by a rather large group pouring into the shop. Stiles thought the guy was somewhere near the edges of that group, but he couldn't be certain and that uncertainty made him nervous.

"Back to the car?" Scott suggested underneath his breath; his lips barely moving.

"Yeah, we run the second we're out of here," Stiles murmured back and nonchalantly put the magazine back in the display.

As they made their way back to the doors, he kept a surreptitious eye out for the guy following them. When he didn't spot him anywhere near the exit, he and Scott shared a brief look before they walked out – and promptly started running to the car. Thanking the gods and everything else out there that he was still in relatively good shape despite not having played sports in around a year and being five months pregnant, he practically threw himself into the Jeep, starting it before Scott had even fully got into the car.

"Go, go, go!" Scott said anxiously, keeping an eye on the shop.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going!" Stiles snapped back, slamming down on the gas and wrenching the steering wheel into the direction of the road.

For a couple of seconds Roscoe protested the rough treatment, but today was a good day for her, because she shot out of the parking lot like the devil was on her tail, and honestly, it felt like the devil himself was right behind them.

"Is he following us?" Stiles asked urgently, pressing the gas pedal down even more. If they were caught speeding now, he just hoped his dad would give him enough time to explain himself before he would ground him for the rest of the year.

"How could he be following us? We were the only ones …" Scott trailed off and the fact that he left his reply unfinished didn't put Stiles at ease at all.

A look in the rear view mirror told him why.

 _The guy was following them again._

"How's that fucking possible?" Stiles snapped, a hint of hysteria trying to slip through. "Nobody followed us out of the shop and there's no way he could get into his car that quickly!"

"Unless he never entered the shop," Scott realised and whipped his head back around to stare at Stiles. "What if he was hiding next to the shop or between some cars?"

Stiles bit down harshly on his lip, thinking about it. He supposed that could have been possible … After all he hadn't actually seen him entering the shop – he'd just assumed it because the guy had got out of his car.

"Shit!"

"Do you have any idea who this is and what he wants?"

"How the hell should I know? I've never seen that car or that guy in my life!" Stiles replied, his voice becoming a tad shrill near the end. He laughed a bit unsteady. "At least my plan worked: we know he's definitely following us now!"

"That really doesn't help us now, Stiles!" Scott said tersely and patted his pockets hastily. "I'm going to call your dad; there has to be something he can do."

"He's going to flip his shit!"

"Well, I'm close to flipping my shit, dude! I don't know what the guy wants from us and I really don't want to find out either!"

It was a wonder Scott hadn't smashed his phone by the time he'd finished entering dad's number with how harshly he was pressing on the numbers.

Dad picked up after three long beeps. "Scott, son, you're calling for something?"

The speaker was on, perfect. "Dad, we're kind of having a problem right now," Stiles said nervously, ignoring Scott's squawked, "Kind of? Dude! This is not a 'kind of problem'!"

"What kind of problem?" Dad asked sharply.

"We're being followed by some guy in a metallic grey Ford; some sort of older type, I don't know which one," Stiles replied quickly and checked the mirror again; his eyes widening. "And he's definitely a lot closer now, shit!"

So close in fact that he could see the faint, creepy smile on the guy's face, which really, really didn't help his growing panic at all.

"How far away are you?" Dad demanded and a couple of seconds later, there was a sudden flurry of different kinds of noises as the sheriff left his office. "Parrish, get two teams and prepare for a roadblock."

"We're around fifteen minutes away," Scott replied; half of his attention on his phone and the other half on the side mirror where he kept an eye on the car.

"Drive as fast as your car allows," Dad ordered. "We'll set up a roadblock."

"Right, sure," Stiles agreed faintly. Personally he thought that was like asking for some sort of fucking miracle of Roscoe but …

Another glance showed the other car was steadily getting closer.

 _A fucking miracle it will be then_ , he decided grimly, and slammed down on the gas.

* * *

 **AN2: Is this what they call a rollercoaster of a chapter? *throws hands up* No clue. We went from discovering they're going to have a girl to Stiles and Scott being followed - let the drama begin *hums***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's note: Many, many apologies for leaving you hanging for more than a month! It was never my intention to make you all wait for that long, but some university projects were kicking my arse severely and I only got around to finishing the chapter today. I'm going to try to keep the delay to a minimum after this!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: ShadowXMoonlight; Safieri; Myxes; yukino76; babyvfan; AnneBridges; TeenWolfLover1316; Digidestined10**

 **Warnings: Some suspense; bit of fluff; implied mature content**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it. I also don't own Deadpool.**

 **I hope you'll like this chapter!**

* * *

 _Chapter 32_

They were almost in Beacon Hills – Stiles could see the edge of the Preserve – when the engine suddenly started sputtering and making ominous noises.

"Stiles, the jeep's making noises," Scott remarked deadly calm. His claws hadn't been retracted since the call with the Sheriff had ended and he remained half twisted towards the back of the jeep, keeping an eye on the car following them.

"I'm aware of that, Scotty, I've got ears," Stiles muttered, hunching his shoulders. "Come on, baby, don't give up on me now."

Roscoe released a sinister, low screech in response, which did nothing to settle his nerves. Then the sputtering grew worse and to his rapidly growing panic, Roscoe started slowing down in spite of deeply he pushed in the gas pedal.

"Stiles, he's getting closer!" Scott warned him urgently and the fox shifter barely resisted the urge to slap him.

"I'm very aware of that, Scott, considering my Jeep's shutting down on us!" he snapped instead and kept pressing on the gas pedal, muttering, "Come on, come on! Just a bit longer! We're nearly there!"

 _Please, just move!_

The Jeep suddenly shot forwards and Stiles nearly lost control over it, shocked by the unexpected burst of speed, but growing excited all the same when he saw the distance between them and the other car rapidly increasing again.

"Yes, I knew you could do it!" he cheered, patting Roscoe's steering wheel, and he grew even more excited when he spotted several police cars lined up on either side of the road.

Man, he'd never thought he would ever be this relieved to see a whole line of police cars waiting for him! They drove straight past them and he slammed on the brakes as soon as they'd crossed the border of Beacon Hills; Roscoe grumbling but stopping without any other ominous noises.

He twisted around in his seat and he and Scott watched how the other car slowed down, obviously having spotted the police cars, before he turned around again with screeching tires and booked it out of here as if the devil himself was now chasing _him_.

Three police cars instantly started chasing after him, flashing lights and screaming sirens, but Stiles no longer cared about that. Heaving a huge sigh, he slumped back in his seat, rubbing his hands over his face. They trembled slightly, the adrenaline of the chase draining away, making place for a feeling of numbness instead. Of was this shock?

"Fuck," he said weakly.

"Shit," Scott agreed; his eyes too wide for his face. His claws were still out and he rubbed his hands over his thighs. "Holy crap, what was that?"

"Beats me, dude," Stiles murmured, releasing a shaky breath. Had they really been chased all the way back to Beacon Hills? Had some strange guy really followed them all the way here?

They both screamed when someone rapped their knuckles on Stiles' window and the Omega smiled sheepishly when dad raised an eyebrow. The Sheriff beckoned him outside; his face set in a severe frown, his lips pressed so tightly together they formed one line.

Scott was already out and around the car by the time Stiles managed to make his trembling hands cooperate enough to undo his seatbelt and he stumbled out of the jeep, clutching the door handle to steady himself. His legs felt as weak as jelly and he had to take several deep breaths to steady himself.

"What the hell happened?" Dad asked tersely; checking both Stiles and Scott for any visible injuries. "Who's that guy?"

"I have no clue!" Stiles replied agitatedly, running his hands through his hair. The strands felt tacky with sweat and he grimaced slightly. "That dude just started following us and no matter what I did, I couldn't shake him off! I don't know what the hell his deal was!"

"Well, hopefully my deputies will be able to catch him," Dad said grimly; his hand resting on the portable radio. "Aside from being chased down by that lunatic, are either of you two hurt?"

"No, just freaked out," Stiles sighed and Scott nodded in agreement, grimacing.

"I don't think you two should be alone right now. Not until we know what this guy wants anyway," Dad said, frowning. "Scott, your mom just finished her shift, so you can go home."

"Sure, sounds good." Scott jerked his head down in a nod, casting a nervous look at the road.

There were still two police cars – not including the Sheriff's – stationed on either side of the road and Parrish was talking to someone through the walkie-talkie; his forehead creased with a severe frown.

"Do I stay with you then?" Stiles asked, rubbing his left arm. Normally he would have no trouble staying alone at home, but he felt quite shaken now and the thought of staying alone now didn't sit well with him.

"No, I think it's best if you stay with Derek while I handle everything here," Dad told him and called out, "Parrish! Take Scott home and bring Stiles to Derek's place."

Parrish looked up and after a short pause, he handed the walkie-talkie over to one of his colleagues and made his way over to them.

"Dad, that's not necessary!" Stiles protested. "I can drive Scott home and get to Derek on my own."

"I don't want you to be alone right now," Dad retorted, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"But if he's going to drive us in my jeep, how is he going to get back here?" Stiles argued and crossed his arms. "Don't think I'm leaving Roscoe behind here!"

Dad rolled his eyes up to the sky as if pleading for strength from some higher being before dragging his hand over his face. "Fine, how about Parrish will follow behind you and drive back here once you're at Derek's place?"

"If Parrish is okay with that," Stiles gave in reluctantly.

Parrish smiled and shrugged. "I don't mind. Better safe than sorry after all." His eyes darkened briefly.

"I'll see you when my shift ends," Dad promised and offered him a quick, but firm hug.

"Yeah, okay," Stiles agreed and climbed back into his car.

"You think they'll be able to catch that weirdo?" Scott asked hushed after slamming the door shut.

Watching Parrish get into one of the police cars, Stiles muttered, "I don't know, Scottie, but I really hope so."

Maybe it had just been an idiot wanting to scare them, but … With everything that had happened this past year, he hoped it had just been a stupid prank. He didn't want to consider any other option.

* * *

"Hey, how did your last – what happened?" Derek's smile was quickly wiped away upon taking a closer look at Stiles' face. He ushered him inside, a frown starting to form. "You don't look so good. Are you feeling unwell?"

Stiles snorted softly, rubbing his hands briskly over his face. He guessed this was Derek's subtle way of telling him he looked like shit. He felt a bit like shit as well.

"I need to sit down," he muttered, making a beeline for the couch.

"Stiles, do you need me to call someone?" Derek asked concerned; his eyes flicking back and forth between Stiles' face and his belly.

"The baby is okay," the younger man sighed and patted the seat next to him. "Come on, sit with me. You're not going to like what I'm going to tell you."

"Oh?" Derek retorted flatly, his fingers curling and uncurling as if he was deciding whether to show his claws or not. He sank down next to Stiles; his frown deepening. "What's wrong?"

Stiles sat there for a moment, debating how exactly he would inform the wolf shifter what had happened. He didn't want him freaking out, but he guessed that would be rather inevitable once the older man heard he'd been chased by someone. The quick, short pain then? Like ripping off a bandage.

" _Stiles."_ There was the barest hint of a growl in Derek's voice and gold was seeping in his eyes around the edges of the iris'.

Right. Stiles released an explosive sigh and in an attempt to keep his hands somewhat still, he trapped them underneath his thighs. "When Scott and I left the parking lot after my exam was finished, we noticed after a while that we were being followed."

"You were what?" Derek said sharply, tensing up visibly.

"We thought it was just a coincidence at first, so we tested it out by stopping at a gas station. When we thought the coast was clear, we made a run back to the jeep, but when we were back on the road, that guy was following us again!" Stiles went on in a rush, nearly tripping over his words. "So Scott ended up calling my dad and he set up a road block and once we got past the town's border, several cops started chasing after that guy, but the dude took off and I have no idea yet whether they managed to stop him or not. And my dad doesn't trust me being alone at the house right now, so that's why I'm here, because I don't know, strength in numbers maybe? Although I guess that would only count if that guy was some sort of serial murder, but these days you never know for sure."

He abruptly cut off his rambling and cleared his throat, looking away. "So yeah, someone followed us and we freaked out, so Scott called my dad."

"Somebody was stalking you," Derek said flatly, remaining completely immobile – except for his claws steadily growing, puncturing his jeans.

Stiles grabbed them before they could actually dig into skin and draw blood. "Isn't it only called stalking if it happens multiple times? I'd say the guy was following me, not really stalking."

"Stiles, this is not the time to joke!" Derek snapped and his hands flexed warningly before they stilled abruptly, as if he'd just realised Stiles was holding them.

The Omega grimaced. "Yeah, I know, sorry, it's just … I'm still freaked out a bit."

Even with Parrish following him all the way to Scott's house and Derek's place, he hadn't been able to stop himself from continuously checking his rear view mirror.

Derek reached out and pulled him into his side. "You recognised this guy?" he asked softly; rubbing Stiles' shoulder soothingly.

"No, I've never seen him before, not here in town or anywhere else," Stiles muttered, turning his head to rest against Derek's chest. "It's like he just showed up out of nowhere. I really don't understand why he kept following us."

"Let's hope they can catch him."

"Yeah …" Stiles sighed, kicking off his shoes. "Look, I really don't want to think about it anymore for now; can we talk about something else or do something instead?" He looked up pleadingly.

The wolf shifter pursed his lips slightly but nodded. "Sure, you want me to order some pizza? We can watch a movie."

"That sounds fucking awesome," Stiles agreed quickly, growing excited about the pizza part despite what had happened on the way here. Since everyone knew he was pregnant, they had developed the irritating habit of making sure he ate healthy all the time; something his dad was naturally very smug about.

It wasn't like he would stuff himself full with fast food all the time, but damn it, some curly fries or a hamburger wasn't bad every once in a while!

"All right, I'll go order us a pizza; why don't you pick out a movie in the meantime?" Derek suggested and stood up, pushing the discarded shoes out of the way before walking to the kitchen.

"You're amazing! Have I mentioned before how amazing you are?" Stiles called out, snatching the remote up from the table.

The soft laughter he received as answer made him smile and feel lighter. He guessed dad had been onto something by sending him to Derek.

* * *

They had just reached the Zamboni scene in Deadpool – Stiles might or might not have watched this particular movie at least five times already, but who was counting? It was _Ryan Reynolds as Deadpool._ – when Stiles suddenly felt … _something_.

He frowned, lowering his pizza slice for the moment as he tried to figure out what exactly he was feeling. It wasn't an upset stomach, that he was sure of, but it had felt like …

There it was again.

He froze this time, acutely aware all of a sudden of the strange fluttery sensation in his belly, and his mouth dropped open when his brain finally caught up to what was happening.

 _Holy shit._

"Stiles? What's wrong?" Derek's sharp voice ripped straight through the daze he'd fallen in and he whipped his head around, staring wide-eyed at the other man.

"I think I just felt her kick!" he replied dumbfounded.

Multicoloured eyes widened slightly before they dropped down and zeroed in on his belly. "She's kicking now?" Derek asked urgently, his hands palming Stiles' belly underneath his shirt.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I felt her kicking," Stiles confirmed, distracted by both the fluttering sensation inside of him and Derek's warm hands resting on him.

"Well, you _are_ twenty weeks pregnant," Derek murmured; a look of concentration on his face as he slowly moved his hands around, trying to feel the next kick. "I'm surprised you didn't feel her moving before today."

"I might have," Stiles answered blankly, recalling the couple of times he'd felt strange in the past few weeks. "But I just thought those were nerves because of the exams."

That made Derek pause and eye him in disbelief. "You confused nerves with feeling our baby kick?" He looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or not.

Stiles reddened. "Shut up, okay! I had a very stressful month!" he defended himself.

"That you did," Derek agreed, his eyes shining and his mouth stretching out with a wide grin.

Before Stiles could react to his amusement – how was it his fault that he'd been too frazzled by the exams to realise he could finally feel their baby kicking? – his mouth was caught in a deep kiss, which pressed him more firmly into the couch. He released a pleased hum, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck to pull him closer.

An unexpected kick within him startled him, a shock running through him, and Derek pulled away with a low chuckle.

"Again, shut up," Stiles groaned, blushing, and hid his face against the wolf's shoulder. "I'm not used to this yet!"

"I didn't say anything," Derek remarked, but he was still smiling; his face softening when he looked down at Stiles' stomach. He slipped a hand underneath the Omega's shirt, palming his growing belly, and nuzzled Stiles' neck; a pleased rumble escaping him.

"Someone's happy," Stiles teased, swinging one leg around Derek's thighs. His neck was kissed in response and he shivered at the combination of soft lips and stubble, pulling Derek closer to him.

When their daughter kicked next, he relaxed; enjoying the sensation of faint tumbling in his stomach and Derek's warm body pressed against him.

* * *

Derek was putting away the last pan when someone knocked on the door.

"I'll go," Stiles offered and discarded his gloves over the edge of the sink before going to the door. He detected four familiar heartbeats in the hallway and furrowed his eyebrows. What were all four of them doing here?

Apprehension filling him for reasons he couldn't immediately discern, he opened the door and was greeted by Talia first with Alexander standing on her right, his dad on her left, and Peter lurking a bit further down the hallway.

Stiles stared at them, at their grave faces – Peter looking more contemplative than grave, but it was still an unsettling look to witness – and turned his head to call out, "Derek, I think we're in trouble."

"What? What are you talking about?" Derek left the kitchen; a frown growing on his face when he spotted his family and the Sheriff. "Mom, dad, what are you doing here?"

"May we come inside?" Talia asked mildly while Peter muttered, "A good evening to you too, dear nephew."

"Are we in trouble?" Stiles asked apprehensively, but stepped aside to let them enter.

"You're not in trouble, kid," Dad sighed, but then grimaced. "Well, at least not in the sense that would get you grounded."

That … actually didn't put him at ease.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he followed them to the couch where Derek pulled him down on his lap to make sure everyone could have a seat.

"What happened?" Derek glanced between his parents and his uncle. "You're not here for just a social visit, right?"

"Not really, no," Talia said apologetically. "We're here to discuss what happened to Stiles today."

"Did you manage to catch that creep?" Stiles demanded immediately, leaning forwards slightly.

Dad's face darkened. "No, we didn't. My men had almost caught up to him when they found the car burning out; the guy already gone. We have no clue how he managed to disappear so quickly considering they were at most two minutes behind. We spent hours canvassing the area, but …" He sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Nothing?" Stiles' heart sank and he bit down on his lip. While he wanted to believe that it had just been an idiot wanting to scare him, it was hard to feel at ease now that the deputies hadn't managed to get a hold of the guy.

"Nothing," Dad confirmed soberly. "It was like he just went up in thin air."

"So what now?" Stiles asked uneasily. He didn't think dad would tell him to just forget about the whole thing; the other Hales' presence was clear proof that dad didn't consider it to be just a stupid prank.

There was no need to drag the Hales into this if it had just been a joke. The fact that they were here now …

Dad grimaced. "I'd want nothing more than to reassure you it was just a prank, but the fact that the guy went as far as setting fire to his car before disappearing … That doesn't feel as just a prank to me. I don't know many pranksters who are willing to go to such efforts not to get caught." He nodded at the others. "Because you told me you didn't recognise this guy at all, I went to talk with Talia and Alexander."

"Why? They weren't there," Stiles pointed out, frowning.

"No, but it is perhaps possible that you were targeted because you're together with my son," Talia said carefully and pressed her lips briefly together; her already dark eyes darkening a tad more. "Unfortunately in the past our family has had to deal with people targeting us either because of our wealth or our connections."

Unwillingly Stiles' mind flashed back to Kate and underneath him, he felt Derek's muscles tightening slightly, most likely thinking the same.

"But why now? I've been together with Derek for several months already and this is the first time someone bothered me," Stiles remarked, rubbing his thumb absently across Derek's hand which was cupping his stomach loosely.

"You haven't left Beacon Hills as often as you did lately," Alexander replied calmly. "The fact that they started following you from the university implies that they're not from Beacon Hills themselves."

"While it does imply that, we can't rule out him being from Beacon Hills entirely," Peter murmured, but he appeared more preoccupied with his own thoughts than with the current conversation.

"What does that mean? Am I confined to the town completely then?" Stiles asked dismayed.

It wasn't like he'd been planning on going outside Beacon Hills much, but just the idea that he would have no other choice than to remain in the town annoyed him a lot. After all that crap with Theo didn't he deserve to live a normal life now?

Dad shared a look with Talia and Alexander. "Not confined, no," he eventually said, grimacing. "But if you're planning on leaving the town, it might be a good idea to have someone with you, just in case."

"Right, just in case," Stiles said sourly, barely suppressing the irritation from seeping out. They were just looking out for him, he acknowledged that, but that didn't make it any less annoying that he was back to looking behind his shoulder.

Would this crap never end?

"Wouldn't want anything to happen to you or my great-nephew," Peter said lightly and suddenly rose up, striding towards the door. "Now if you don't mind, I have some work to do." He offered them a lofty wave before shutting the door behind him.

"Work as in …" Dad trailed off, a bit wary.

"As in some work," Talia smiled affably. "He's taking care of the family like he always does in situations like this one."

"Right, just don't give me any details please," Dad said wearily. "The less I know, the better I think in this particular situation."

"That's probably for the best," Alexander agreed and smiled softly at Stiles. "It'll be okay, Stiles. You just focus on the upcoming summer and the baby."

Right. Easier said than done, but it was the thought that counted he supposed.

* * *

"You want to move in with me tomorrow?" Derek asked quietly later that night in bed.

It was nearing close to midnight now, but neither of them was feeling inclined to go to sleep yet. The window in Derek's bedroom was slightly ajar and when Stiles concentrated, he could hear the song the chirping crickets were creating a couple of streets further away. Occasionally a car would drive past the building, but overall it was a calm, quiet night.

The quietness of it all stood in sharp contrast to the turmoil he'd experienced today; from the adrenaline inducing car chase to feeling their baby kick for the first time to being told he had to be careful once more …

He should be enjoying the fact that he was finally free for the summer and that he could feel his daughter kicking, instead of worrying about the intentions of that guy who'd chased him and Scott. Right when he thought everything had finally fallen into place …

He turned his head and caught multicoloured eyes shimmering in the faint moonlight. He smiled wryly. "You're sure you still want me to take you up on that offer? I might be leading some deranged psychopath to your home."

" _Our_ home," Derek corrected instantly and his hand came to rest on the younger man's back, pressing him closer. "And I don't care. I'd rather have you here with me, knowing you're safe, than constantly having to worry someone might try to break into your house."

"Not really a romantic reason to have me moving in with you," Stiles couldn't help but point out, forgoing mentioning his dad for now. Like the Sheriff would allow anyone to try to break in.

"I already told you I want to live together with you," Derek reminded him; his fingers trailing up and down across Stiles' side, over his shirt. "Before today happened even. That reason is still the most important one – the one about wanting you safe with me is just a bonus."

"I already started packing around a week ago," Stiles admitted and despite the shit which happened today, Derek's beautiful smile warmed him inside.

He shuffled closer, tugging at Derek's shirt.

"Stiles?"

"I just want to forget what happened today," Stiles muttered, both too tired and too wired up all at once. It felt like bees were buzzing right underneath his skin and he could think of only one way to get rid of the restlessness.

Derek's face softened and his hand slipped around the Omega's neck to pull him closer for a kiss.

Their clothes were discarded onto the floor one by one as they set out exploring each other's bodies as if this was their first time all over again. Their hands caressed and touched smooth skin, slipped down firm muscles or around a rounded stomach, the touch gentling just a tad when they reached that area. Lips kissed and sucked, teeth nipped and nibbled. If there was the occasional flash of claws or fangs briefly descending, neither of them cared.

When Derek finally pushed inside, Stiles closed his eyes and sighed softly; settling at the sensation of fullness. He was on his right side this time with Derek entering him from behind; his left leg held up by a strong, slightly slick hand. A shiver went through him when Derek started kissing his neck, running his nose alongside his hairline. Blindly he reached behind him, sinking his fingers in thick, whispery soft hair. He held his hand there, not pushing or pulling, but Derek moaned lowly nonetheless and when he kissed his shoulder next, there was definitely a hint of fangs involved.

That only made Stiles press back more firmly, groaning when Derek shifted slightly in response and with his next thrust, he hit his hidden spot directly; pleasure making him jolt. Their position didn't allow for moving quickly, but the pace they had going on was more than fine for Stiles. Derek fucked him slow and deep; one hand keeping his leg raised while the other cupped his belly from underneath him and his lips never left his skin for more than a couple of seconds.

"Almost there," Stiles muttered dazed; head swimming with pleasure. Every single nerve ending in his body was singing with pleasure, but a small part of him was still aware of the way Derek was starting to have more trouble entering him and pulling back out; his knot slowly starting to form.

"I – I can pull out," Derek said in a strained voice; his hand on Stiles' thigh spasming a bit. "So that we're not - "

"Don't even think about it!" Stiles retorted, sharper than he intended to, but oh well. His cheeks flushed deeper and his voice cracked when he said, "I need this."

The embarrassment he felt at the admission was worth hearing the way Derek almost whimpered before he started putting more force behind his thrusts, his forming knot pressing against the Omega's entrance until it slipped completely inside with the next thrust.

Even though this was by far not the first time the wolf shifter had knotted him, the stretch and burn coupled with the intense pleasure coursing through him as his sweet spot was struck dead on was enough to hurtle Stiles right over the edge; his limbs spasming and him spewing out god knew what as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure crashed into him again and again.

He was still shivering by the time he came down from his high and heard Derek panting and groaning behind him as he pumped him full; his hips moving restlessly and his face pressed into Stiles' neck. He'd dropped the fox's leg in favour of clutching his hip tightly.

"This was exactly what I needed," Stiles sighed, grabbing Derek's hand; heedless of the fact that a major clean-up was awaiting them the moment Derek's knot disappeared again.

An odd sound, something between a laugh and a groan, escaped Derek, but he just placed a tender kiss in Stiles' neck, which the younger man chose to acknowledge as agreement to his statement.

This was definitely something they both had needed after today's events.

* * *

 **AN2: We're slowly nearing the ending, guys; just figured I'd give a head's up LOL Also, I wish you all a happy holidays!**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's note: Many, many apologies for the extreme lateness of this chapter. It wasn't my intention to leave you hanging for this long. I'm studying for my exams and well, I'm going to be honest: all that studying has sapped most of my motivation to work on my fics. Again sorry for the delay and I hope you won't find this chapter too horrible!**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: babyvfan; Myxes; yukino76; Digidestined10; ShadowXMoonlight**

 **Warning: Drama. See second AN for an additional warning (as it would spoil the chapter somewhat, I've decided to put this particular warning at the end)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 33_

"You didn't have to help, you know," Stiles remarked, carefully placing his laptop between a couple of layers of clothes in his duffle bag. The charger ended up next to it together with his phone's charger.

Erica snorted, dropping the last five books in a books and taping that one shut. "Oh, please, it's not like this is such a hardship. I have a day off and this way Derek is less antsy about you doing the rest of the packing."

"Again, just pregnant, not an invalid," he muttered darkly, zipping the bag close.

She sighed, straightening up. "Just humour him a bit, okay? With all that shit that's been going, his protective instincts are going haywire at the moment."

"Not only his instincts." He looked pointedly at the three boxes with his books; the ones she'd snatched out of his hands before directing him to the stuff on his desk.

She rolled her eyes, replying dismissively, "Pack helps each other. By the way, normally people would be happy if they didn't have to carry the heavy stuff."

"I might not be as muscled as Derek or Boyd, but I am capable of carrying three boxes with books," he said dryly.

Picking two boxes up at once, she grinned at him and bumped his shoulder on the way to the door. "I'm sure you are, Batman. But I'm still helping you out. You're my good deed of the month!"

"I feel so honoured," he muttered sarcastically, but grinned when he heard her responding laughter on the staircase.

Looking around his now empty room – save for a couple of other boxes and his duffle bag – a strange feeling of being lost fell over him. He'd spent nineteen years in this room – or well, close to nineteen anyway – and it was weird to realise that after today he wouldn't spend the night here anymore. That starting today he would call another place his home.

No more checking dad's breakfast like a hawk to make sure that he wasn't eating anything too salty or too greasy; no more hearing him arrive late at night and pretending to be asleep when he would check on him … He knew he wasn't moving that far away, not even out of town, and that dad definitely wouldn't mind him stopping by whenever he wanted – well, unless it was to check on the fridge, then dad probably would protest his visits – but it still felt weird.

Man, expecting a baby, moving in with his boyfriend – he was really turning into a full-fledged adult now.

"Hey, you got everything packed?" Dad appeared in the doorway, eyeing the bare walls and the stripped bed. He was starting his shift later today, so he could help Stiles move into Derek's place – well, their place now, the fox shifter supposed.

"Yep, even checked underneath the bed," Stiles confirmed. "Everything's packed normally."

"If not, I know where to find you," Dad smiled and stepped inside to make way for Erica who was humming something non-sensical while picking up another set of boxes.

"Yeah," Stiles sighed, rubbing the right side of his stomach for a moment when the baby kicked. It still felt a bit strange to feel her moving inside of him, but he was slowly growing used to the fluttering motions and didn't startle every time anymore when she moved.

"Hey." Dad stepped forwards, drawing him into a one armed hug. "You know you can always visit me, right? It's not because you're moving out that we won't see each other anymore."

"I know," Stiles muttered and scratched the bridge of his nose. "It just feels weird, you know? Starting from today, I'll be falling asleep with Derek next me instead of waiting for you to come home and I don't know – it's just weird."

"I want to live with Derek!" he hastily added when dad opened his mouth, presumably to reassure him he could still change his mind. "Believe me, I do! But it feels strange at the same time, you know?"

"Yeah." Dad was quiet for a bit, visibly trying to order his thoughts. "I felt the same way when your mom and I officially started living together. Suddenly we had this whole house to ourselves, we became responsible for everything, we didn't have to mind other family members anymore … It was exhilarating, but scary at first." He breathed out slowly and then smiled, squeezing Stiles' shoulder. "But you get used to it very quickly, trust me."

"All right, I guess I'll believe you." He would find out soon whether dad was right anyways. "But don't think me living somewhere else means you can eat all the greasy shit you want."

Dad rolled his eyes and huffed. "Of course not; why ever would I think that? You'd probably try bugging this house if you believe I'm eating too greasy."

"Don't give me any ideas," Stiles warned him, but grinned.

They both turned around when Derek leant inside the room with a questioning look. "You ready to go? Boyd's already driving the van to our place."

Stiles glanced at dad before he nodded and picked up his duffle bag. "Yeah, I'm ready.."

One more look at his old bedroom – which looked rather alien now with its walls stripped of his posters and only the bed with a bare mattress on it remaining – and then he followed the two other men downstairs.

Ready to start the next new chapter of his life.

* * *

"Mom's wondering when you're throwing a housewarming party," Cora remarked, accepting her three scoops of ice cream – one chocolate, one strawberry and one banana – with a slight nod. She shifted her shopping bags further towards her elbow to make sure she wouldn't spill any ice cream on them.

Accepting his own four chocolate scoops – he was eating for two here and the baby insisted on chocolate, okay – Stiles snorted. "Why would we do that? Isn't that something you usually do if you buy a completely new home? I moved in with Derek; it's not like we bought a new place."

The shop bell rang cheerfully when she pushed open the door and they both squinted when the sunlight hit them right in their eyes.

"Do I look like I know anything about this type of stuff?" she retorted unimpressed. "I'm just the messenger here; ask mom about it. Pretty sure it's just her excuse to get the whole family together again."

"Your whole family wouldn't even fit at our place," he muttered, shoving a big spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. The instant cold shock had him blinking several times, shivering, before he got used to it. It did help combat the warm weather, though.

"Our family," she corrected him instantly and his cheeks pinked slightly, as they did every time one of the Hales corrected him to include him into the family. "Mom would probably offer to have the party at our home."

"Does your dad even get a say in any of this?"

"Nope. He's learnt long ago to just let mom decide everything. Makes life much easier for us all overall."

"Well, I'll mention it to Derek," he decided, figuring he'd let the older man deal with his mother's questions. He wouldn't mind a party, but it wasn't as if he was absolutely jumping in excitement for one either.

Looking at the other shops, he asked, "You need to check another store or so? Or are you finished?"

Cora's final year at high school was quickly coming to an end and in order to distract herself from her nerves – although why she would be nervous about her marks was something Stiles didn't really get, considering everyone in the Hale family were very smart – she'd decided to do some shopping for the ball and for the graduation party the Hales would throw afterwards.

With her car due for a check-up and Stiles close to driving himself crazy about his own impending doom – aka getting his marks – it had been decided he would accompany her during her shopping trip. It offered them both the distraction they desperately needed and it wasn't as if Stiles had any trouble accompanying a girl during her shopping spree. At least Cora wasn't as bad – nor as picky, though he would never tell Lydia that – as Lydia, so this shopping spree wouldn't end up with him bemoaning the fate of his poor, throbbing feet.

Thank god for small mercies.

"No, I'm finished. I got everything I need," she replied.

"Should I drop you off at your house then?"

"We can drop off my bags there and then I can come with you to your place," she said lightly. "It's been a while since I last got the chance to bug my brother."

He cast her a suspicious look. "Just to bug your brother?" he asked sceptically and kept staring at her until she looked away, both chagrined and embarrassed.

"Look, I know you're not a fan of this," she started and he snorted.

"That's putting it mildly. Yeah, you could say I'm not a fan of being shadowed wherever I go," he said sarcastically. He should have realised there was a hidden motive to him accompanying Cora.

Pursing her lips, she abruptly pulled him to the side, into the shadow of a bakery and out of the way of the other people. "Uncle Peter told us to make sure you're never alone, okay?" she said in a low voice; her eyes both defiant and apologetic at the same time. "You don't have that much experience with him yet, but I can tell you this: for him to have given us this particular order, means that whoever was chasing you last week is someone we need to worry about. Uncle Peter doesn't just give these orders at the drop of a hat. We all know that whenever he specifically demands something of us, it means that he's worried about whichever case he's handling."

Stiles grimaced, his stomach dropping. True, he wasn't that close to Peter, but he didn't come across like a person who'd worry easily. Otherwise he wouldn't have been made a Left Hand. If Peter really was that worried that he'd given the entire Hale family the order to not leave Stiles on his own … Was this person then more dangerous than either of them suspected?

"I'm not saying this to freak you out, all right?" Cora said hushed; her eyebrows drawn together. "But you deserve to know why we'd rather not have you be alone right now. I know it's not fun, but …"

"It beats the alternative," he sighed, looking down at the last two half melted scoops of ice cream. "Fine, if that weirdo freaks out even Peter, I guess I can put up being shadowed by the Hale family. I suppose it'll at least put my dad at ease that I won't be alone for however long that guy's out there." He heaved another sigh, a louder one this time.

Would the bullshit never end? First Theo, now this fucking guy … What was their problem with him? Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"Uncle Peter's handling it, so this will all be over soon," she spoke confidently.

"Let's hope so. It'd be great if people would finally stop bothering me," he muttered and shoved another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. "Come on, let's go. With a bit of luck, the shadows haven't shifted yet and my jeep isn't yet roasting in the sun right now."

"You know, Derek wouldn't mind helping you get a car with some decent air conditioning," she remarked casually, finishing her ice cream and throwing the crumpled wad in a bin on their way to the parking lot.

"My jeep's perfectly fine, I don't need a new car," he insisted.

What did the entire Hale family have against his precious Roscoe? Even Derek had been hinting he wouldn't mind buying him a car. His jeep was perfectly fine, there was no need to –

His jeep wasn't in its spot anymore.

"The hell?" He came to an abrupt halt and Cora stopped surprised. "I parked right here, didn't I?" he asked flabbergasted, looking around the parking lot in search for the baby blue jeep. Were the pregnancy hormones messing with his memory now?

She frowned, looking around as well. "Yeah, of course you parked here. Your jeep is hard to miss."

"But it's not here anymore." Coldness, which had nothing to do with the ice cream he'd just eaten, seeped into his body as he realised that Roscoe wasn't here anymore.

No matter how hard he looked, how long he looked around – his jeep wasn't here anymore.

 _Someone had stolen his jeep._

"Someone fucking stole my jeep," he said faintly; his voice sounding off even to his own ears.

He thought he'd be furious, but he was entirely numb, not even registering how the remainder of his ice cream splattered apart on the tarmac when the cup slipped from between his limp fingers.

"Someone actually stole my jeep," he repeated, the realisation not really fully hitting him yet.

This had to be a joke, right? There was no way someone would actually steal Roscoe. Out of all the cars present in the parking lot – why the hell would someone try to steal an old jeep? There was a brand-new Jaguar parked right next Roscoe's! Jaguar versus old, battered Jeep – shouldn't the choice have been obvious?!

"Stiles, don't lose it right now, okay?" Cora spoke warningly, digging her phone out of her pocket. Her flushed cheeks sharply contrasted her otherwise pale face.

He didn't even twitch when she reached into his back pocket and shoved his own phone against his chest. "Call your dad and tell him your jeep got stolen. I'm going to call my brother to pick us up, okay?" She eyed him warily, clearly not trusting him to not lose his shit.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled, feeling like his mind was entirely disconnected from his body. Like he was just surveying the situation from afar instead of living through it.

He fumbled with his phone, his fingers trembling too much to cooperate at first. He had to stop and take a deep breath before his fingers were steady enough to finally select his dad's number.

"Hey son," Dad greeted him warmly. "How's your first week been at - "

"Dad, someone stole Roscoe," Stiles interrupted him; ringing filling his ears, drowning out all other sounds. A lump blocking his throat, he chocked out, _"Someone stole mom's car."_

* * *

" _I'm sure they'll find Roscoe,"_ Scott had told him, ever the optimistic, before he had to leave for his shift at Deaton's practice. _"Everyone knows how your jeep looks like, so whoever stole it will have a difficult time hiding it."_

The rational part of Stiles knew his best friend was right: the jeep being his was as well known in Beacon Hills as him being the Sheriff's kid. If anyone tried to hide the jeep or tried to pretend it was theirs, other people would know right away they were lying.

But knowing that, didn't make him feel better nor did it dissolve the huge block of misery which had settled in the pit of his stomach the moment he fully realised that his jeep was gone. It didn't make him stop wondering whether he had accidentally forgotten to lock his car when he and Cora had stepped out, didn't make him stop questioning whether he shouldn't have gone for the underground parking lot after all, even though he didn't like parking there because Roscoe always had a hard time driving back up again.

He just didn't understand why anyone would want to steel his jeep. He wasn't blind; while he might defend his precious car heatedly every time someone suggested it was nothing more than scrap held together with tape, he also acknowledged that Roscoe was way past her prime time, had already been considered rather old by the time mom had bought it.

If one wanted to steal a car, wasn't it more logical to go for a more expensive one? Or at the very least one which didn't look like it had smashed repeatedly into a wall before being repaired over and over again? Who would even be stupid to steal a well known car? Roscoe wasn't just any Beacon Hills resident's car – it was his jeep, the jeep of the Sheriff's kid. Everyone knew that.

So why be stupid enough to steal a car you knew belonged to someone who was family of the Sheriff?

"Brooding won't do you anything good, but give you a headache," Derek told him, sitting down next to him and placing two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table in front of them.

Cora had left a little over half an hour ago, having been picked up by Laura. She'd stayed with Stiles the entire time, from when dad and Parrish had shown up to check the scene, all up to sitting with him on the couch, rambling on and on about all the gossip she'd picked up in her classes in an attempt to distract Stiles from what had happened.

He appreciated her trying to distract him, but as long as he didn't know what had happened to his jeep, he wouldn't be able to relax or even think about something else.

"It's all I can do, seeing as dad took away the radio scanner," he said bitterly, shifting a bit when the baby unexpectedly kicked his right side.

He had thought the precinct hadn't realised they were missing a scanner, but as it turned out, dad had known all along that Stiles had taken it. He'd let him have it for all those years because he'd realised Stiles had mainly used it to ascertain that his dad was okay, but with his jeep stolen now, dad had insisted on taking the scanner with him, not wanting Stiles to obsessively listen to it the entire day.

He wouldn't have listened ' _obsessively_ ' to it! Who was obsessed, not him! He would have just occasionally checked it, what was wrong with that?

"Whoever took your jeep won't get far away with it," Derek reassured him, resting his arm around his shoulders and pulling him gently towards his side. "Not with all the available deputies looking for it."

Stiles tightened his lips, snatching a handful of Derek's dark green T-shirt. Any other moment he would have felt guilty about having all the deputies – at least the ones not yet assigned to a case or a call – looking for his jeep, but now it was the only thing which managed to settle his panic a bit, knowing that his dad's men and women would do everything to retrieve his jeep. Most of them had seen him grow up, had known how eager he'd been to finally get his license so he could drive his mom's car. They knew how much Roscoe meant to him.

Whoever had stolen his jeep wouldn't get away with it easily.

He knew all that, yet he couldn't stop himself from checking his phone every five minutes, anxiously awaiting the moment dad would call him with news.

"This fucking sucks," he mumbled, hiding his face in Derek's shoulder. He inhaled deeply; the Beta's scent mildly soothing him. "As if it isn't enough some weirdo was chasing me, now someone stole my car too. What the hell is wrong with everyone?"

"I don't know, Stiles," Derek murmured and he felt lips pressing a soft kiss against his temple. "I really don't know."

Yeah, he didn't know either.

* * *

He must have nodded off, because the loud ringtone of his phone startled him all of a sudden, making him yelp and almost fall off the couch if it hadn't been for Derek's quick reflexes. He quickly grabbed Stiles around his chest and hauled him back up, making his breath leave him in a whoosh.

"Thanks for that," he said faintly, patting Derek's thigh, before snatching his phone from the table. His heart started beating quicker when he saw that dad was calling him. Did he have news?

Mouth suddenly dry, he accepted the call and asked in a small voice, "Dad, you found Roscoe?"

There were voices discussing something in the background, one which sounded like Parrish, and for a little while dad didn't say anything, making Stiles think the older man had accidentally called him and wasn't even aware of it.

He tried again. "Dad? You have any news?"

"Stiles, we found the Jeep," Dad said.

Relief and excitement were already pulling apart the block of misery, making him feel lighter, when dad's odd tone registered. Tensing up, feeling Derek shift to sit close next to him, he asked apprehensively, "Dad, what's wrong? Did that asshole crash my car?"

If that son of a bitch had totalled his jeep, he would fucking sue him for all that he was worth!

"No, he didn't crash the jeep, but Stiles," Dad paused again, sounding incredibly uncomfortable when he went on, "Your jeep has now become evidence. You won't be able to drive it for a while."

"Evidence of what? Roscoe was just stolen, can't you drive her back?" he questioned warily. Did they still have to lift fingerprints or so?

"Son, the kid who stole your car …" Dad hesitated, but Stiles' impatient noise spurred him on. Gravely, he said, "Someone shot him from behind when he was driving your jeep. He's dead."

 _What._

* * *

 **AN2: Additional warning: mentioned character death.**

 **So we left the dark part behind us for a while, but starting from now on, we're inching into another dark part of the story (the last one, I swear!). Just thought I'd give you a head's up. Shit's about to go down once more (it's the end stage; can't have things be too quiet for the end stage).**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's note: Look at that, I actually managed to update it on time! I'll try to stick to the schedule, though I can't promise anything as university will start again for me on Monday *coughs* But hey, at least this one is on time! It's the little things, guys.**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: Myxes; Almondweb; yukino76; Digidestined10; babyvfan; ShadowXMoonlight**

 **Warnings: References to the character death; nothing else in particular I think**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davies owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 _Chapter 34_

They drove to the precinct, even though there was nothing any of them could do and with the jeep being evidence now, it wasn't like Stiles would get his car back any time soon.

Despite all that, they still went once the shock had worn off. The kid who'd stolen his car – dead. How had it escalated that badly? How had they gone from Stiles reporting his jeep stolen to the jeep being found with a dead body inside? Who had killed the guy and why? An attempted carjacking perhaps? Let's be real here: even he was realistic enough to admit that Roscoe was far from carjacking worthy. If criminals wanted a quick, inconspicuous getaway, Roscoe was definitely not the first choice.

Why else would someone have killed the kid, though? It didn't make sense.

What also didn't make sense was Peter greeting them when they walked into the Sherriff's office; Parrish having waved them through without saying anything, too busy with studying several pictures.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked flatly; his hand resting low on Stiles' back.

Peter smiled affably. "Offering my services to the police," he answered smoothly. While the reply was almost teasing, light as most of his responses tended to be, there was a darkness present in his eyes now which caused the teasing tone to fall flat.

Stiles looked between him and dad, who sat behind his desk, his face drawn with exhaustion; several papers spread out in front of him. There were pictures too and Stiles caught a glimpse of the interior of his car, covered with red splatters, before he swallowed and looked away.

"Dad?"

"Peter has his own theories about what exactly happened after your jeep was stolen," Dad said wearily, dragging a hand down his face. "Don't ask me how he even knew something had happened, I still don't know and frankly, I'm not sure I want to know."

Peter sniffed, crossing his arms. "My own theories make far more sense than the carjacking one some of your deputies are treating this case as."

"And what are your theories?" Stiles asked, sitting down when Derek silently ushered him to a chair. At least he wasn't alone in thinking that a carjacking didn't make much sense in the case of his car.

"There are two possibilities as to why the victim was shot," Peter started, his tone brisk now. "First, you need to know that this kid looked somewhat like you."

"In what sense?" Stiles asked warily.

Derek took the seat next to him, his whole posture tense as he stared at his uncle with narrowed eyes.

"Same built, hairstyle similar to yours, same poor taste in vehicles," Peter summed up, casually throwing in the jab at the end. "If one doesn't look too closely, they could easily mistake you for each other."

"Someone shot him because they thought he was Stiles?" Derek growled, claws popping out and digging into the arms of the chair, chipping off wood.

"The first possibility: he was shot _precisely_ because he looked like Stiles and he drove the jeep," Peter stated, ticking it off on his index finger. He tapped his middle finger. "The second possibility: they assumed he was Stiles, tracked him down, then figured out he wasn't the one they were looking for and that's why they killed him. The fact that they left the jeep alone tells us they weren't interested in the car itself, but in the person driving it. So either the boy got killed because they thought he was you – or they killed him because he wasn't you and they didn't want any witnesses."

Nausea hooked its claws in him, churning his stomach. "I don't know which possibility is worse to be honest," Stiles said disgusted.

"Either they want you dead or they want you for something else," Peter commented contemplatively, crossing his arms again. "Personal experience tells me that them not wanting you dead tends to imply a worse fate than simply being killed immediately."

"And those are the only possibilities you can think of?" Dad grunted; his eyes dark. "It could still be coincidence."

"Let us pretend for a moment that it's just coincidence and they didn't go after the kid because he looks like your son," Peter smiled thinly. "What other reasons could they possibly have had for going after him? The jeep? Bless your late wife, but we're not talking about a very expensive car here, which would score high on the black market. That thing looks ready to collapse any day now."

Stiles scowled, but didn't refute the claim, knowing it was true. It was sheer luck, a lot of love and a shit ton of duct tape that was keeping his baby together at the moment and still running.

"The kid's valuables? His phone and wallet were left alone," Peter continued, ignoring dad's darkly muttered, "How the hell do you even know that?". "So if they weren't interested in the car nor in any objects with monetary value – why even go after the kid in the first place then? Why kill him?"

He shook his head. "No, they were after Stiles and got pissed off when they realised they had the wrong guy."

"Who do you think is behind this then?" Derek questioned; his mouth a thin line. His nails left deep grooves behind in the wood when he forced them to retract after Stiles placed his hand on his.

Peter frowned heavily; a flash of irritation crossing his eyes. "At the moment I'm inclined to suspect the Hawthorne clan considering they were the ones causing trouble in the past for Talia as well, but … I haven't found a reason yet why after all these years they would suddenly try to attack someone of us again."

"Perhaps because they found out that my son is carrying your sister's granddaughter and wants to get back at her for whatever she did to piss them off in the past?" Dad suggested tiredly. "How come I was never even informed that she was in trouble before?"

"Because I handled it back then," Peter replied nonchalantly before narrowing his eyes slightly in thought. "I suppose the pregnancy could have been a trigger for them, but …" He shook his head slowly; his frown deepening. "I'll have to look into it."

"So what now?" Stiles asked lowly, rubbing over his stomach when his baby started fussing heavily as a reaction to the anxiety he was experiencing.

"I'm going to call up some old contacts, find out if they've heard something about a target placed on you," Peter said thoughtfully and flicked his eyes over at the Sheriff. "Just in case it's not a target on our family, you might want to ask around and see if one of the criminals you put behind bars has recently been released. They might have planted a target on the Sheriff's family instead."

Dad glared at him. "You think I haven't thought about that already?" he said clipped. "Jordan's looking into it right now."

Peter nodded and smiled thinly. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have some old friends to contact." He slipped out of the room without one look back.

"He'll probably end up looking up whether someone is seeking revenge on you," Derek remarked; his eyes dark. "My uncle likes doing things on his own."

"As long as he doesn't give me any reason to haul him in," Dad muttered darkly and briskly rubbed his face. When he looked at Stiles, his face was grim and determined. "I know you're definitely not going to like this, but son, I don't want you to go anywhere alone right now. Not until we've found the one who's behind this. This time it was an innocent bystander, but next time it might be you and I do not want that."

"Trust me, dad, I like being alive too," Stiles said tiredly and heaved a huge sigh. "Can I still visit the Nemeton, though? I don't have to visit it that often anymore, but …"

Dad hesitated before nodding begrudgingly. "Yeah, you can; it's not like Deaton gave you much of a choice. Just have someone with you, okay? And make sure you're not followed when you visit it. I'll also have some of my men performing a perimeter check every evening and morning around your home just to be safe."

Stiles couldn't find it in him to protest about that extra measure. The death of the guy who'd stolen his jeep had shook him to the core; the realisation that it could easily have been him instead filling him with ice. The thought of how close he had come to dying … It made him sick.

"And it might also be for the best if you don't leave Beacon Hills for a while," Dad said cautiously. "We don't have any proof yet that these events are connected, but you being chased all the way to the town and then tonight someone went after your jeep right outside Beacon Hills … If it's a coincidence, it's a very big one."

And dad didn't believe in coincidences; at least not when they occurred in his line of work.

"You think staying within the borders will make sure Stiles is safe?" Derek questioned; a heavy frown cleaving his forehead in two.

Dad rolled his shoulders and grimaced. "I don't dare to state that he will be absolutely safe, but so far these two events happened _outside_ Beacon Hills. Let's not tempt fate; if for whatever reason these people don't dare to enter Beacon Hills, then we're going to make use of that."

"I'm not very keen at leaving town for the moment," Stiles muttered; his fingers tightening around Derek's.

"Good." Dad nodded and sighed. "There's nothing else you can do here, so I suggest you two go back home and rest. I know this isn't easy, but try not to think about what happened, all right, son? I'll take care of this, you take care of yourself and my granddaughter," he said gruffly.

Stiles nodded subdued, knowing there wasn't much he could do here – and for the first time, he didn't have any desire to stick his nose into this case either. He stood up, together with Derek, and slipped around the desk to give dad a hug.

"How bad does Roscoe look?" he asked, fearing the answer.

Dad patted his back gently. "We'll get the window fixed and the inside cleaned," he promised.

Which wasn't really an answer, but Stiles was fine with leaving it at that.

They said their goodbyes and the couple left, Stiles offering Parrish a short wave when they passed his desk. The older man smiled tersely at him, not able to say anything as he was on the phone with someone.

Stiles and Derek climbed into Derek's car and even though it definitely wasn't cold at all, Stiles started shivering and he rubbed the heels of his palms roughly over his cheeks.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Yeah," Derek agreed, his hands on the steering wheel, but he hadn't started the car yet.

"I just want all this bullshit to be over with, is that too much to ask?" Stiles asked; his voice muffled behind his hands.

He couldn't get past the thought that it could have been _him_ , him dead in his car, a bullet stuck in his brain. Or maybe Peter was right and whoever had been behind this would have abducted him instead. He didn't know which fate was worse: being killed or being abducted for fuck knew which reason.

How had he managed to piss someone off so badly that they either wanted him dead or taken away by them? Was it a released criminal out for revenge on his dad? Or was it someone pissed off at the Hale family and they decided to target Stiles because he was the newest 'addition'?

Was he going to need to look over his shoulder for the rest of his life now? First Theo, then the guy chasing after him, then this murder which might or might not be connected to the car chase … When would it finally end?

A warm, broad hand slipped around his neck; the light weight reassuring and sapping away some of the churning nausea he was experiencing.

"Uncle Peter and your dad will figure it out," Derek said quietly; his thumb rubbing soothing circles in the middle of the Omega's neck. "Uncle Peter is the Left Hand for a reason; he never fails at what he does. It's what makes him so annoying sometimes."

Stiles cracked a weak smile; Derek's reassurance helping a little bit. That was right, Peter was the Left Hand; if anyone would know how to track down this person or these people, it would be him.

Peter might be a weirdo, but he wouldn't have been appointed the Left Hand if he didn't know what he was doing.

Dad and his deputies would be working on the case as well; with those combined forces it didn't seem likely that whoever was behind this would get away with it.

"Let's go home, okay?" Derek suggested softly. "What do you say about spending the whole day tomorrow lazing and doing what we want?"

Stiles turned his head, pressing firmer into the hand around his neck subconsciously. "Don't you have a text to finish?"

The wolf shifter shrugged, looking unbothered. "I'm nearly done with it and the client doesn't expect it for another five days. I can take a day off."

"Okay, that sounds great," Stiles agreed, forcing himself to stop thinking about the dead kid in his car. "Let's go; there's a bed calling out to me."

They shared a soft kiss before Derek started the car.

* * *

He didn't get much sleep that night. He'd expected to be completely out for the count once he crawled into his bed, the long day having worn him down, but by the time the digital clock showed that it was nearly two o'clock, he was still awake. He'd dozed off for a bit, he was sure, but actually catching sleep seemed impossible now.

"Can't sleep?" Derek's voice broke the quiet in the room when Stiles turned around for the fifth time in less than ten minutes.

"Shit, did I wake you up?" Stiles asked guiltily, lying still on his back now.

"No, can't really fall asleep," Derek admitted.

Stiles felt him rise up slightly and then the lamp on the wolf shifter's nightstand was clicked on; the soft light spreading a warm glow throughout the room.

Resting his back against the headboard, Derek turned to look at him and asked, "You want to talk about it?"

Stiles shook his head and sat up as well; one hand automatically cupping his stomach. Their baby was starting to fuss slightly, but so far she was refraining from kicking the shit out of his organs which he appreciated.

"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered, but not thinking about it was a whole other matter.

He and Derek had checked every nook and cranny in the flat when they had returned, even though so far all the shit had occurred outside of Beacon Hills. It had made him feel a little bit better, but obviously not enough considering he was still awake at this late hour.

"You want to talk about anything else? Or do something to take your mind off of it?" Derek suggested, reaching out to slowly rub Stiles' rounded stomach. His eyes softened a fraction when their baby pressed a foot against his hand.

"What I want is to get some sleep, but that's obviously not going to happen," the Omega grumbled annoyed. Feeling a kick aimed at his thumb made him remember something. "You know, we haven't discussed any names so far," he remarked. "You want to do that now?"

He'd just entered the sixth month, so he still had some time left before their daughter would make an appearance, but trying to come up with names would hopefully distract him enough so he could finally catch some sleep afterwards.

"Sure," Derek agreed readily; a spark of excitement chasing away some of the darkness in his eyes. "You got any in mind already?"

"Nope, nothing," Stiles popped his lips. "I don't even know whether I want some specific meaning or not."

"Maybe we could follow tradition and give our daughter a Polish name," Derek smirked, twisting around so he could put both hands on Stiles' belly.

"God, no," Stiles shuddered and grimaced. "The last thing I want is to give my kid a monstrosity of a name like I have!"

"That reminds me that I actually still don't know what your real name is," Derek mused aloud; his hands rubbing slowly up and down across Stiles' sides.

"And you're never going to know that," Stiles retorted firmly. "Nobody should ever be forced to read such an horrific amount of alphabet abuse."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Derek chuckled; his smile widening when their baby delivered yet another kick.

"Oh, it is, it very much is," Stiles said darkly. "So no, Polish traditions are completely out of the question. I can't have my kid hating my guts already before she's even out of me!"

"Maybe you didn't mind your name when you were still a kid," Derek argued.

He received an unimpressed look in return. "I couldn't even read that name, let alone pronounce it. I came up with my name when I was four years old – is that telling enough?"

"Okay, no Polish names, I get it," Derek laughed, raising his hands in the air for a moment before cupping the Omega's belly again.

"Does your family have any name traditions?" Stiles asked curiously. Although he didn't think his Polish name was really a family tradition, as much as dad having wanted to honour mom's wish to have some connection to her Polish heritage.

Derek tilted his head to the left, contemplating the question. "I don't think we have," he said slowly, frowning slightly. "Neither mom nor dad ever said they chose our names for a specific reason anyway. I think they just liked the ring of it."

"That sounds like a good enough reason to me," Stiles mumbled, wondering which name sounded right for their baby. "Lara perhaps?"

Derek wrinkled his nose. "No, that sounds too much like Laura. And too much like a certain video game character as well." His eyebrows rose up judgingly.

Stiles grinned innocently. "All right, so Lara is out. Elisabeth?"

The older man hesitated but shook his head. "Doesn't feel right. Lily?"

"Hm, we can take that one in consideration," Stiles mused. Lily Hale had a nice ring to it, but Lily Stilinski … Not really.

Derek uttered a sound of protest when Stiles slipped out of bed. "Where are you going?"

"Getting some pen and paper so that we can write down the names," Stiles called out, wandering into the living room. "I'd use my laptop, but it's installing updates and you know that shit can take ages."

He climbed back into the bed as soon as he'd hunted down a notepad and a pen and wrote ' _Baby Names!_ ' on top of the page before scribbling down ' _Lily_ ' as the first name.

"How about Sophia?" Derek suggested, absently starting to massage Stiles' right leg.

"Oh, that sounds nice! And it ends on an 'a' like the names of your mother and your sisters," Stiles grinned, adding the name to the list. "And I guess it also follows the names of her non-blood related aunts: Lydia, Erica and Kira."

Huh, he hadn't realised until know how many women he knew whose name ended on an 'a'. Melissa too. Man, what a coincidence.

"Anabelle?"

"Hm. Put that in the maybe section."

They continued discussing names, adding them to the list, scratching off others, until well into the morning and exhaustion finally really caught up to them, having them fall asleep by five o'clock.

* * *

"How are you doing now?" Erica asked him, popping up on his left side.

Cora's graduation had officially just finished and the graduate was currently being smothered against her mother's chest while Laura kept ruffling her hair and teasing her. Alexander was patiently awaiting his turn until his wife was finished hugging their daughter to death.

"In general or because of what happened last week?" Stiles asked dryly. "You look nice by the way."

She did, dressed in a light blue dress which flared open around her hips and was one of those one shoulder type of dresses. It had a faint sheen to it in the sunlight without being too distracting.

"Thanks," she grinned before sobering up again. "Because of what happened last week."

Stiles breathed out slowly, leaning back into Derek's chest when the older man came to stand behind him, wrapping his arms around him. He'd seen several of his old teachers eyeing his bump and while Harris had sneered, none of them had actually approached him.

"Trying not to think about it," he admitted. His jeep still hadn't been released and he was trying hard not to think about just how much cleaning the car would have to undergo. At this point he wasn't sure yet whether he would feel comfortable driving it again either.

"Yeah, I get that," she sighed, swiping her blonde curls over her shoulder. She bit down on her lip. "Boyd and I have been thinking – we could maybe temporarily move into your building? Help you keep an eye out in case that creep does cross the border?"

"That's sweet, but you don't have to do that," Stiles said, appreciating the gesture all the same. He couldn't expect them to give up their lives just because of one freak, though.

She shrugged, patting his belly gently. "Hey, you're pack. Pack sticks together, especially when one sicko is out to get one of the pack." Her fangs lengthened for a couple of seconds in reaction to her anger.

"Besides," she added, forcing her fangs back, "no offence meant, but you look like shit. I don't think you've been getting much sleep, right?"

Reluctantly Stiles shook his head and he felt Derek tightening his embrace slightly.

"The situation is messing with our heads," Derek grunted.

"Thought so," she sighed. "Look, just think about the offer, okay? You might be able to get some decent sleep if you know we're nearby. You know we wouldn't let anything happen to either one of you."

"We'll think about it," Derek promised and she flashed them a quick smile before walking away, looking for Boyd.

"Have you got the chance to congra-" Stiles was interrupted by Peter who suddenly showed up from literally nowhere, making him jump. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"A good morning to you too," Peter smiled, but there was something off with it, immediately setting the fox shifter on edge.

"What do you want?" Derek asked warily. "Shouldn't you be congratulating your niece?"

Peter waved his hand dismissively. "I'll do that later. No, I need to borrow your mate for just a couple of minutes."

"What for?" Heavy suspicion coloured Derek's voice now, which had his uncle smirking.

"Business, my dear nephew. Now, if you don't mind …" Peter slipped his arm around Stiles' shoulders and drew him along with him. "He'll be back before you have time to miss him!"

Derek's responding low growl had him smirking broadly.

"All right, what do you want?" Stiles demanded when they'd left the group of students and family behind, getting close to the edge of the lacrosse field.

"Would you recognise the guy who'd been chasing after you if you were shown a picture of him?" Peter inquired out of the blue, finally removing his arm from around Stiles.

"I think so," Stiles replied warily. "Why?"

"You recognise him?"

Frowning, Stiles looked at the picture he was shown and a shock went through him when he recognised the guy with short brown hair in it. He still wore a pair of dark sunglasses and was driving a different car from the looks of it, but it was the same guy, he was sure. Even with the pixelated appearance – a picture from a street surveillance cam? – it was hard not to recognise him.

The guy who'd been chasing him down all the way to Beacon Hills before rushing away once the police went after him.

"That's him," he said, mouth dry suddenly. "That's the guy who was following me. You found him?"

"Unfortunately, no," Peter sighed and tucked the picture back into his pocket. "But this does at least confirm my theory that the one chasing you is the same one who murdered that boy last week."

"Wait, how does that picture prove that?"

"I hacked into the surveillance system of the cameras near the route the body was found," Peter explained unperturbed. As if hacking into a system was perfectly normal. For him it probably was. "I was hoping to find out in which direction he'd gone to. One of the cameras managed to get quite the nice shot of his face before he disappeared completely."

"Disappeared as in …"

"Disappeared as in, he ditched this car and went up in smoke again," Peter murmured, narrowing his eyes. "Whoever this is, it's someone who knows how to play the game pretty well." He sounded both disgusted and impressed.

"But you can play the game better, right?" Stiles asked anxiously. How had this guy managed to disappear from the radar twice? Especially now that Peter was looking for him!

The shark like grin which appeared on the older man's face had his stomach performing weird twists. "Oh, don't you worry your pretty head over that, my dear Stiles. He might know how to play the game," he bent down towards him and smirked, "but I know how to play it the _best_."

Stiles didn't doubt that for one second.

* * *

 **AN2: Peter loves playing games … Any guesses as to why you think the guy manages to stay off the radar?**

 **I hope you liked this chapter! Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's note: Apologies for the somewhat short chapter, but I wanted to give you guys something after a wait of three weeks. Classes are kicking my arse (early morning and late evening classes really do not agree with me)**

 **Thanks to the following reviewers: yukino76; Myxes; Digidestined10; babyvfan; DustyQOTF; ShadowXMoonlight**

 **Warnings: short scene of violence; suspense**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it! (Despite the shortness of it)**

* * *

 _Chapter 35_

Stiles didn't really pay attention to it initially, assuming he was merely growing paranoid after the recent events.

It started the evening after Cora's graduation when they had all gathered in a local restaurant to celebrate both Cora's graduation and Stiles having passed his first year with excellent marks. The restaurant was more high end than Stiles felt comfortable with – even whilst being in Beacon Hills – but Talia and Alexander reassured him they would take care of the bill. That actually didn't make him feel better, but he'd basically given up by now to protest. Even if he would pay for his share, they'd most likely give him his money back and he wasn't in the mood for an argument about it.

They were about to start on dessert – Talia grilling him and Derek about which name they were going to choose for their daughter – when the back of Stiles' neck pricked, as if someone was staring very intently at him.

He turned around abruptly, scanning the restaurant and even looking outside to check the street, but he didn't notice anyone suspect. The other diners were all too busy talking with each other and the only person outside was too absorbed in his phone as he walked past the restaurant.

"Stiles, something wrong?" Laura asked curiously, halting her teasing of Cora about a guy in her class who supposedly had a crush on her.

"No, nothing," he smiled and rolled his shoulders, returning to his slice of chocolate and raspberry pie.

He was just imagining things now. The whole crap with Theo and now that creep was making him paranoid, that was all.

* * *

The sensation of being stared at didn't stop, however. Nearly every time he was outside for an extended period of time – be it to shop for groceries with Derek, visit his dad at the station or at home, stop by for a quick chat with Scott at the druid's office … - he would get the disturbing feeling that someone was staring at him intently, nearly drilling holes into the back of his head.

The disturbing sensation of being watched never lasted very long – only a few minutes at best. He would have dismissed it as someone just accidentally staring at him while daydreaming but that didn't explain the intensity he felt in that gaze nor why he felt stared at quite regularly. It wasn't every time he went outside, but still often enough that he was becoming quite paranoid.

Every time he turned around to catch the person staring at him, however, he couldn't see anyone in particular acting strangely. That led to him doubting himself, wondering whether he just wasn't becoming a paranoid mess.

He thought of mentioning the creepy sensation to either Derek or dad, but something held him back each time. What was he going to say even? That he sometimes felt like someone was staring at him but that every time he turned around to check, he couldn't see anyone acting suspicious? What would that even accomplish? It would only make them more worried and they were already worried enough with the creep who'd been chasing him down from the university all the way to Beacon Hills – and who'd ended up shooting a kid who'd looked alarmingly similar to Stiles.

He didn't think the creep was doing the staring, though. There was no way that guy would have managed to sneak into Beacon Hills completely undetected, not with the way the deputies were on high alert nor with Peter lurking around and hunting down leads.

If it wasn't the creep, though, who was it then? Or was he making a big deal out of nothing and did the staring just come from people who were surprised to see him pregnant? The warm weather had him forgoing his usual combination of plaids and hoodies, opting for T-shirts instead. Being six months pregnant meant his stomach was obviously rounded by now and nobody could be fooled anymore that he'd just eaten a bit too much; no, it was definitely clear that he was expecting a child now.

So was that it then? Were people staring because they hadn't expected to see him pregnant? If that was the case, then why could he never catch any of them staring at him? No way they were all quick enough to pretend they were interested in something else whenever he whirled around quickly to catch them in the act.

Or was it all really just in his head; perhaps the hormones messing with his mind? He didn't know and that frustrated him immensely.

* * *

"Being a tree sounds so easy sometimes," Stiles sighed and waved his hand haphazardly around. "I mean, sure, you've got your own set of problems I suppose, with people trying to steal you or whatever they try to do sometimes, but I feel at this moment I got the short end of the stick between the two of us – no pun intended."

"Did you say something?" Scott asked absently, typing something quickly on his phone.

Probably texting Kira. Rolling his eyes, Stiles snorted, "No, buddy, just talking to the tree here."

"Oh okay, cool," Scott muttered, already entirely focused on his phone.

Derek wanted to have one of his assignments finished by tonight and because Stiles had been bored hanging around the apartment waiting for his mate to be finished, he'd figured he might as well visit the Nemeton again as it had been a while. Leaving home of course meant that he needed someone to accompany him and Scott had had the misfortune of showing up for a short visit at the same time Stiles had been contemplating who to ask and who was actually free to babysit him.

Scott showing up had made the decision rather easy.

Kira – Stiles was going to assume it was her his friend was texting constantly, because it would be weird if the Beta was that focused on his mom's texts – had started texting Scott halfway their trek to the Nemeton. Naturally Scott's attention had immediately zeroed in on his phone, retaining approximately zero percent of what Stiles had been talking about.

The pregnant Omega wasn't really bothered by it; he'd grown used to Scott's short attention span when it came to his girlfriend months before and it was oddly therapeutic talking to the tree instead. It couldn't answer him – he'd freak out if it did – but it still gave off the impression that it was listening to him. He would be concerned about his state of mind that he felt like the tree was listening, but with all the crazy shit that had been going on this past year, the Nemeton listening to him was the least insane part of it all.

Besides, a tree listening to him was nothing compared to that same tree flourishing out of a dead tree stump all because it had felt the presence of another Elemental Creature nearby. If a tree could magically grow that quickly and defend him against enemies – and give him visions to boot – then looking like it was listening to him was the most normal part about it.

"But I guess I should be glad that you're having it easy now, huh? The last thing I need on top of all this shit is someone trying to get to you again and you giving me visions," Stiles continued and huffed. "And hey, at least one of us is safe from freaks." He rested his fingers on the nearest tree branch.

 _Screaming. So much screaming. Blood pouring down, soaking forest floor. A group huddled together._

 _Then one by one, branches lashed down, wrapped around someone who was trying their hardest to get away, but it was no use, no matter how hard they struggled. Up they went in the air, disappearing into the tree._

 _Bones cracking, skin splitting apart, blood spurting in an arch through the air, colouring the sky a brilliant scarlet red …_

Stiles snatched his hand away as if the tree itself was on fire and lurched back, staring at the Nemeton. He was breathing harshly, as if he'd just run a marathon, and soon he started shivering, feeling cold even though the sun was still shining brilliantly. The Nemeton's branches just swayed back and forth gently, caressing his arms; if it could produce any sound, it would probably be purring right now.

When one of the branches tickled the right side of his belly, he immediately stepped away; his ears still ringing with the petrified screams he'd been forced to listen to in – whatever that had been.

"Scott, I'm finished here," he announced abruptly, whirling around, ignoring how the Nemeton appeared to reach out to him.

Scott looked up surprised. "Oh, okay. You want to go somewhere else or do you want to go back home?"

Even though he was still reeling, feeling completely unbalanced in a way that had nothing to do with the extra weight at his front, he forced a smile on his face and said fake cheerfully, "Yeah, actually; you mind if we make a quick stop at the Hale manor? I want to talk to Peter about something."

Scott wrinkled his nose. "What do you want to talk about with him?"

"Oh just a question I have about a book he let me borrow," Stiles answered vaguely and started walking away, wanting to put as much distance between him and the tree as quickly as possible.

What the hell had that just been? A vision? About what? It had only shown him the Nemeton apparently killing someone by literally squeezing them to death it seemed. But who? What was the purpose of that? Was the Nemeton threatening him, showing what it was capable of?

He swallowed and quickened his step, paying no attention to Scott grumbling behind him when he nearly stumbled over some roots.

But why would the Nemeton threaten him? Hadn't Deaton said that it had come back alive to protect Stiles? Then again, he wasn't really sure whether the ancient tree was actually threatening him. It had only shown him a person being picked up by the branches – no clue whether that person had been male or female, so maybe it was someone else?

Now that he thought about it – if the Nemeton really wanted to kill him, it would make no sense for the tree to warn him about it through a vision. That would just be stupid. So … was the vision meant to show approaching danger? But when would the danger arrive? He didn't feel the same urgency he had felt during his first vision, so whatever was going to happen, wouldn't happen any time soon, he assumed.

When would it happen then? How was he supposed to know that when nothing in the vision had given him a clue as to when exactly it would occur?

He needed to talk to Peter about this; he seemed to know a lot about the Nemeton and the Hales literally lived in the Preserve – if there was danger lurking around the corner, they needed to know about it before it was too late.

He nodded politely to an elderly couple about to enter the Preserve when he and Scott left the tree line behind them, making their way to Derek's car. Dad had promised him that his Jeep was nearly ready to be cleared for duty so to speak, but until he had his car back, he had to make do with Derek's – which given that it was a Camaro wasn't really inconspicuous but it was either using his or Derek trying to drag him along to buy a new car.

Just as he was about to slip behind the wheel – Derek had been quite clear about the fact that under no circumstances was Scott ever to touch the wheel unless Stiles was in trouble – the back of his neck started pricking. Immediately he whipped around, but to both his growing frustration and ire he couldn't catch the person staring at him. He scanned the tree line, saw the elderly couple meandering down the path and saw three young boys arguing with each other a few feet away from the entrance, getting heated about whether or not they would be bringing their bikes into the woods or not.

Nobody was staring at him.

This was it. _He had had it_. He was sick and tired of feeling stared at all the goddamn time when he wasn't able to catch anyone. Fuck it, he was going to call in help now.

"Stiles, anything wrong?" Scott looked at him questioningly, briefly turning around to look at the trees as well.

"No, let's go," Stiles smiled strained and barely refrained from slamming the door shut.

Fuck everything. He was done with this shit.

* * *

Cora blinked at him when she opened the door. "My brother actually let you outside the house without him?" she questioned lightly. There was some cotton jammed between the toes of her left foot to keep the toes spread as she put green nail polish on them.

Stiles jerked his thumb back at Scott, who was hovering a couple of feet behind him. "Not to worry, I got my guard here with me," he muttered sarcastically. "Is your uncle home?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You want to speak to my uncle willingly?" she asked sceptically and well, he couldn't blame her for that reaction.

He doubted many people outside their family were willing to actually speak to Peter. He didn't have much of a choice, though; Peter was his best option at this point. He didn't sprout vague bullshit like Deaton liked to do – well, at least not as often as the druid did – and he wasn't exactly bound to respect the law like his dad was, which made the older wolf the best person to solve both of his problems.

"Yep, I think he's growing on me," he joked, but his heart wasn't really in it and that probably showed, because her eyebrows knitted together in concern and she gave him a quick once over.

Then she nodded and stepped away, waving him inside. "Yeah, he's in his study, first floor second door to the right."

"Thanks," he smiled quickly before turning to address Scott, "Ehm, you can wait here, but maybe it's easier if you call someone to pick you up. This might take a while and I know you're making plans with Kira."

Scott blushed at being called out like that, not denying it at all, but he still tried to argue, "But how are you going to get home? You shouldn't be alone, remember?"

"It's hard to forget that when everyone keeps reminding me," Stiles smiled thinly, his temper close to flaring up. He didn't want to lash out at his friend, who had done nothing to deserve his temper, but the strange, unsettling vision combined with having been stared at again had left his nerves frazzled and shot to hell and it wouldn't take much for him to explode now.

Cora seemed to sense that, because she ushered him to the stairs and said to Scott, "Don't worry, I can drive him home afterwards; gives me a chance to visit my brother again and annoy him."

Stiles didn't wait to hear Scott's response to that and instead went upstairs quickly, though he had to pause when he stepped on the landing. His baby started kicking him rather fiercely, apparently not appreciating the trip upstairs, and he spent a brief moment rubbing his stomach to shush her, lamenting that he should have asked Derek to join him after all. Whenever their daughter became a tad too active, Derek's voice always managed to calm her down.

Once she'd stopped beating his organs into submission for the most part, he continued his way down the corridor, knocking on the second door on the right.

It was quiet for a while and he was about to knock again, wondering whether Peter had stepped out without Cora being aware of it, when the door suddenly swung open. Peter braced his arm against the doorframe and quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, this is quite a surprise," he drawled; his ice blue eyes briefly flicking down to Stiles' stomach. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company this fine afternoon?"

"I need your help," Stiles stated bluntly, not seeing the point in beating around the bush about it.

The older man stared at him for a moment, clearly not having anticipated that blunt request. Intrigue quickly lit up his eyes, however, and he stepped back, allowing Stiles to enter his study.

The walls were hidden behind large bookcases; each one of them filled to the brim with books, the shelves looking like they would crack underneath the heavy weight of the tomes any minute now. There was one window wedged between the towering bookcases, allowing daylight to pour onto the desk underneath it. Only one chair was available in the room and Peter silently gestured at it while he himself leant against his desk.

"I'm curious, what exactly do you need my help with?"

Stiles sat down in the chair, mainly because his legs still didn't feel quite stable after the weird vision in the Preserve. Taking a deep breath, he started, "I think the Nemeton gave me a new vision."

Peter listened patiently, not interrupting him even once as Stiles told him everything he could remember from the vision up until even his brief suspicion that the Nemeton might have threatened him.

"There is no way the Nemeton was threatening you," Peter stated as soon as the younger man stopped talking. "You're bound to it as its Elemental Creature; there's no reason for it to threaten you when killing you would mean killing itself."

"Yeah, that's what I figured after I stopped freaking out," Stiles muttered and rubbed his cheeks briskly. "I just don't get why it showed me that vision now – if it's a vision at all. I'm not feeling the same urgency I had when I got that first vision, so I have no clue when that scene will happen." Some of his frustration slipped through in his voice and the wolf shifter hummed thoughtfully.

"If I had to make an educated guess, I suppose you received this vision so early now because your bond with the Nemeton has strengthened throughout these past couple of months," he said contemplatively. "Because the link between you two has grown stronger thanks to your regular visits, the Nemeton is capable of sending you visions a lot earlier now."

"Yeah, but that doesn't really help with figuring out when exactly the enemy arrives," Stiles said annoyed. "I can hardly spend every day there, waiting for the enemy to show up!"

"In your condition it would be ill advised to await a possible enemy," Peter said calmly, but his eyes flashed a brilliant blue for just a couple of seconds. He smiled thinly. "It'd be rather troublesome if either you or my grandniece landed into some trouble that way."

Shaking off the sight of the brilliant blue colour – he had suspected before that Peter wasn't exactly following the law at times when he was doing his work as the Left Hand, hadn't he? – Stiles riposted, "Fine, but what do you suppose we do then? Just let the enemy march into the forest?"

"Considering the wards around the town, I hardly think they would be able to march into the woods just like that," Peter replied bored. "My sister and I will keep an eye out; I doubt anyone will be able to sneak past both us and the wards."

Stiles supposed he had a point there. "Okay, fine," he said reluctantly and licked his lips. "There's one other thing actually that's been bothering me lately."

"Lay it all on me," Peter said amused, crossing his arms.

His amusement disappearing in a flash when Stiles confessed, "I think someone's been following me around."

The icy tone in his voice could have made the North Pole proud when Peter demanded, "Tell me everything."

* * *

 **AN2: And we're inching closer and closer to the climax of this story …**

 **Please leave a review behind with your thoughts; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


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